


Waking the Witch

by morphogenesis



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphogenesis/pseuds/morphogenesis
Summary: Witches awaken in Arcadia Bay, learn the mysterious suicide of a classmate isn't what it seems, and are forced to solve the mystery themselves. If only they could stop bickering long enough to do so.[Engelsfors fusion]
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Victoria Chase/Taylor Christensen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An incomplete work from 2017 that will likely stay incomplete, but I wanted to share what I wrote. Title from Kate Bush. Engelsfors canon rules mostly adhered to. Enjoy.
> 
> TW: Suicide mention, slurs

Nobody used the bathroom closest to the side exit of the school since Rachel Amber had killed herself six months ago. Jumped out a classroom window; the spot where she’d landed was still marked off as a memorial with a few laminated pictures and dead bouquets still there. Some new paint hadn't quite covered the “DO A FLIP, BITCH” spray painted on the wall above it, especially since an image of the fresh paint job was preserved on Instagram accounts throughout the student body.

In the passing weeks, everyone reported little things -- seeing shadows in the corner of their eye; feeling colder when they walked in; lights spontaneously going out -- and so the norm was to avoid that bathroom. It was haunted.

That was why Max was in there by herself. Even though the real story behind the stories was morbid, she needed to be alone right now.

The photo in her hand was so...basic. How could she think this would work, or that she'd make anything worth submitting to the contest? She took a deep breath, washed her face. Maybe Kate or Warren were free…

And then she noticed the blue butterfly. She followed it, around the stalls, and right when she was about to snap a photo, the door slammed open and it flew away.

‘Oooooof course,’ Max thought, ‘today is not your day, Max.’

She was distracted by rambling around the corner -- a boy. She peeked around and saw one of the -- no, the personification of the Vortex Club, Nathan Prescott.

“Nobody can tell you what to do. You rule this school and everyone in it. You snap your fingers and people jump! You'll show this bitch.” His ranting at his own reflection made Max duck back again.

She heard someone else enter, checking the stalls, before addressing Nathan: “Let's do this. Tell me what you know about Rachel.” 

“Delete that video first and stop ordering me around.”

“Why, reminding you of being interrogated by the cops?”

“You'd know how that feels, punkass. Ask them what I told you yourself unless --”

"Tell me!"

She shrieked when Nathan pushed her against the wall and pushed something black into her stomach -- a gun. 

"Nobody tells me what to do! Shut your fucking mouth!"

Max froze in shock; the girl didn't speak, her lips sealed and jaw tight. 

"W-What are you doing?!" she called. 

"What the --" Nathan turned around, pulling the gun away from the girl. He took a step toward Max and waved the gun at her, then she really froze --

Then the other girl thrust her hand out and shouted, and the gun flew from his hand and smashed into the wall behind Max, narrowly missing her shoulder. She dove for it same time as Nathan, grabbing it despite his hand squeezing her neck and squeezed with all her strength…

And then her hands tingled and she felt the individual parts of the gun, saw every piece in her head, and then let it fall apart in her hands. They fell to the ground like a broken toy -- cartridge, trigger, barrel, bullets -- until it was unusable like she'd dismantled it with the precision of an expert.

Nathan kicked her in her back, and when she doubled over he tried to grab the unusable weapon. "What the --" Then he yelled and fell to the floor and the girl said "Run!" before bolting.

Max ran, jumping over Nathan to do so, back and knees aching.

The girl was nowhere to be found, and when she reported it to the principal nobody found anything. She was given a lecture about telling stories about other students and dismissed for the rest of the night.

Still shaking, Max jogged across the courtyard toward the parking lot, hoping she’d find that girl. Was she okay? What had happened in there? She felt drawn to her or...like her kin.

The truck almost ran her over when she cross the lot without thinking, head to the left searching for unfamiliar cars. She braced herself on the hood, warm and solid beneath her palms, growing more solid by the second actually, until the driver called: “Max?”

She looked up. “Chloe?”

Chloe leaned over and threw the passenger-side door open. “Get in.” Max ran around and hopped into the cab, slamming the door behind her and looking over her shoulder, half-expecting Nathan to run into the lot and grab Chloe’s bumper.

Chloe. Max looked at her as she sped onto the road and turned them away from Blackwell. The punk look suited her, down to the blue nails she drummed on the steering wheel as she appeared deep in thought. It was like her confidence from childhood made external, that “Don’t fuck with me” attitude she’d had even as a kid.

“What did you see in there?” Chloe said.

“Only that Nathan is a psycho. Are you okay?”

She noticed Chloe’s shoulders relax. “Yeah, it’s pretty lame he brought a gun to a knife fight. I’m not scared of him.” Max looked at her, wondering if she actually was hiding a knife somewhere on her person or if Chloe was being metaphorical. “Nice to finally see you. Were you waiting to really make an entrance before you called?”

“No… I mean, I know it’s been a month. I’m sorry. I was getting adjusted at school, and --”

“So you’ll make time for the artistes at Blackwell, but not for me. Awesome, thanks.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Forget it, it’s fine.” Chloe seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek before she spoke again: “Actually, now that you’re here, let’s take a walk. Did Nathan hurt you when he tried to feel you up?” Despite the casual crudeness, she did sound concerned.

“No, and thanks for kicking him for me. I wish I’d gotten one in. We could’ve double-teamed him.”

Chloe snorted. “So Seattle didn’t turn you into a total hippie.” She squinted into the sun and played with the broken sunshade in front of her. “Thanks for bum rushing him.”

“No problem. What was his problem anyway?”

“In a minute, let your captain pilot us to the destination first.”

Max noticed more trees pop up around them, until they pulled into a familiar gravel parking lot at the foot of the hiking trail. It led to the lighthouse and as they walked, Max relived memories of spending whole Saturdays here with Chloe, when their only problems were boredom and fighting over who got to be the captain first.

Chloe’s steps got lighter as they proceeded up the trail, occasionally she’d stop and look back at Max, rocking in place as she waited for her to catch up. “It’s still great, right?”

Max hurried to reach her. “Totally awesomesauce,” she assured Chloe. 

They came out of the woods to the golden hour, painting the familiar crest and lighthouse with warm light. It was unseasonably warm for late October, and Max almost wanted to take her hoodie off, lest she sweat all over it. Chloe was already speeding ahead of her, toward the bench by the lighthouse and easily jumping over it to sit on the back.

Max stopped to take a shot of the lighthouse, feeling inspired by the perfect composition the tower, the boulder, and the bay created and all the natural light. She liked taking photos of Seattle, but Arcadia Bay lent itself to some real natural shots.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” she said as she came up behind Chloe.

“Surprised you still remember it.”

Max decided not to push the passive-aggressive jabs. She knew from experience making Chloe defensive wasn’t going to end well for anyone. “Of course I do, this was our pirate lair, right?”

Chloe smiled at her, apparently satisfied. “So, you wanna know what was up Nathan’s ass?” She raised her phone and waggled it at Max. “Watch this.” She hit the play button on the screen and Nathan appeared on the screen, stumbling in a parking lot and only visible in the nighttime because of his red jacket.

He was shouting abuse at a big guy outside of what looked like a bar or club, and the camera shook like the cameraman was ducking back to get the whole scene in frame. Nice amateur directing, Max thought. She watched Nathan get up in the bouncer’s face, still yelling but looking like he was about to fall over drunk, but then he took a swing --

“Bam!” Chloe shouted, punching a fist in the air when the bouncer grabbed Nathan and pushed him backwards so he fell on his ass. She paused the video with a swipe of her thumb. “I’ve watched this a thousand times, it never gets old.”

Max chuckled; it felt great to watch somebody put Nathan in his place. “Did you take this?”

“Yeah, happened to be in the right place at the right time. I thought I’d use it as leverage when I went to grill him about Rachel, but I guess he’s still butthurt.” She paused, watching Max expectantly. “Get it?”

“Wait, Rachel? As in Rachel Amber?” Even if there were other Rachels, nobody would remember them in the wake of Rachel’s jump, she’d been that prominent at Blackwell. All Max had heard was that she was nice, smart, beautiful, a total superstar. It wasn’t a surprise Chloe knew her.

Chloe sobered, letting her hand drop in her lap and frowning at her phone for a moment. “Yeah. She was best friend 2.0.”

“I’m really sorry for your loss. I wish I could’ve known her, she sounds like she was great.”

Chloe glared at her. “She was -- she still is awesome. The best person I knew.” She bounced her heels off the edge of the bench. “She had everything going on -- which is why I think she didn’t off herself. Something stinks, especially since Nathan is the last person who saw her alive.”

Max nodded. That was all over Blackwell, and usually brought up to either make Nathan sound like a cartoon villain, or a victim of a terrible tragedy, having to live with that guilt. “I’d be suspicious, too. It’s badass you tried to get to the bottom of things, like Detective Angel from our comics.”

Chloe made a finger-pistol, cocked it, and shot the sunset with an exaggerated popping sound. Her white shell bracelet gleamed in the light. “That’s me, still the baddest bitch in Arcadia Bay.”

“Still, he tried to kill you. Blackwell has security, we could’ve gone to them.” Security that was constantly about to lose his shit on people for littering or taking imaginary drugs, but security all the same. Even David Madsen wouldn’t ignore a real gun threat on campus.

“No thanks. Blackwell’s a joke and I see enough of their tiny commander at home. He’s as good of a step-ass as he is a guard. That’s why the real cops wouldn’t take him.”

“Whoa, my condolences.” Before she could go on, Chloe interrupted her:

“Wait, wait, let me show you exactly how badass I got since you left Arcadia Bay.” Chloe hopped off the bench and bounced on the balls of her feet, looking twelve instead of nineteen for a second. Max smiled to see it. Chloe removed her hat and tossed it onto the bench, then said: “Watch this.”

She lifted one hand, letting the rest of her body go still, and took a deep breath. When she exhaled, she stuck her arm out like she was reaching for the hat. Her face was set and she seemed to be really concentrating, when --

The hat lifted off the bench, slowly at first, but then rising in a straight line before coming closer to Chloe. She moved her hand closer to herself, and the hat followed her hand, until it froze in the air, floating in front of her face. Then, with a look at Max, she moved her hand in a circle with a twist of her wrist and it circled her head before she thrust her hand forward again and it flew back to the bench, hitting the back and falling to the seat. Chloe looked back at her, trembling slightly like she was tired, but smiling. “See? Feel free to gush over me as much as you want.”

“Wow,” Max said, unsure what to think. Had she really seen that? “Chloe, that’s...holy shit.” She felt tingly all of a sudden, like someone had dumped ice water down her back. When she looked at Chloe she felt another tug deep inside, like something was drawing her towards her. “Did you really do that? Show me something else.”

Chloe lifted her hand again, looking hard at Max, and then snapped her wrist back, and Max felt herself yanked forward by an invisible grip. She gasped and stumbled over her feet, nearly falling on her face until that same hand grabbed her shoulder and held her up, set her back upright. “Shit, I was trying to grab your bag! You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, just...don’t go full-Carrie on me again, okay?” Chloe looked a little worried, pulling her hat down hard over her hair, and didn’t look at Max. Max crossed around the bench to grab her shoulders. “Really. This is amazing. How long have you been able to do this?” She should have been freaking out more, but how could she? She’d always known Chloe was kind of magic, in the way she was fearless and creative and gutsy. And...and she’d seen this before: When she’d thrust her hand out, yelling, she was the one who sent the gun flying out of Nathan’s hand.

Chloe’s shoulders relaxed under her hands. “Six months and change. It used to only be when I was hella pissed -- the first time I sent plates flying in the kitchen when I was arguing with my Mom -- but since I figured it out, I started messing around, and well...you saw.” She got somber for a moment. “The only other person who knows is Rachel. It started happening right before…” She didn’t finish the sentence. “She believed me from the moment I said it. That was just her, though. You could talk to her about anything.” She looked away, hands in her pockets. “She listened to so much bawling about my dad when we first met, and then she’d give me a joint or a CD and we’d just...chill. She treated me like I was still normal, and after awhile, I believed her.”

The subtext was clear: ‘You missed out on me when I needed you.’ Max took her hands off her shoulders. “I’m glad she was there for you.” She wanted to add ‘I never stopped thinking about you,’ or at least ‘I’m sorry,’ but she doubted Chloe wanted to hear it.

“These past six months have sucked ass. The only thing I’ve cared about for awhile is these powers. Before she died, Rachel...she started acting a little weird. One time we were hanging out and she broke a bottle in her fist without trying. I tried to get her to talk to me, but she started pulling away.” She frowned. “It was pissing me off, actually, and one night we had a fight over the phone and she hung up on me. And two days later, she was gone.” Chloe sat back down on the bench, pulling her legs up so one was underneath her and the other was bent upright.

Max sat down beside her, leaning on her hands. “Well, now you’re not hiding this from everyone. You’ve got me.”

“Finally.”

“Chloe, if you want me to stick around, will you stop being such an ass?”

“What do you want me to do? Get on my knees and blow you for being so gracious to spend time with me? You were my best friend, where the fuck were you for the past five years?”

“And I’m sorry, okay? I was an asshole. But if you want me to trust you, will you please just...give me a chance to make it up to you? We could be a team again, if you want. With this.”

Chloe nodded after a moment. “Okay, fine. I showed you this because I wanted you to know, I guess. Pass the Price Trials and you can enter the inner circle.” She smiled at her to show she wasn’t totally serious.

Max gently slugged her shoulder. “That’s more like it.” They looked at the sunset for a long moment, and Max debated taking a shot of the water, or maybe one of Chloe, reclining in the chair and bathing in the light for a moment. Chloe lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke through her nose. ‘That’s a perfect photo op,’ Max thought, and lifted her camera. The camera snapped, and the resulting photo was perfect.

As Max reviewed the photo before showing it to Chloe, she felt that tingly sensation again in her hands and had a sense memory: The gun in her hands, and then falling to individual parts on the floor. She’d had a sense for every piece, and felt like she was taking it apart with some invisible force. She set the camera down quickly, intuitively knowing it would meet the same fate if she didn’t. “Chloe… What does using your powers feel like?”

When she looked up, Chloe was looking at her, eyes wide a little bit. “Uh… Kind of...warm, or like blood rushing through my veins. I thought I had a leftover buzz at first, the first time. Max, you alright?”

“I…” She was afraid to touch her camera again lest it break, like the gun had. Like she’d done it. “I’m not so sure.” She dug through her bag, retrieving a binder for a class she never used anyway, and decided to test her hunch. She squeezed it tightly, feeling that tingling sensation return, and then ran a finger down the spine, watching in shock as the spine peeled back from the sides, and the plastic covering frayed beneath her hands. Max ran her fingertips over the surface of the cover, and watched her stickers follow, tearing off the cover even though she had the lightest touch. She was doing all this, and that warmth filled her as blood raced through her head.

She jolted out of her trance when Chloe touched her neck, fingers pressed to her pulse point. “Max… I knew something was up with you. You feel hella staticky.”

Max nodded mutely. “I feel you, too,” was all she could say as the binder fell apart completely and the freed papers spilled onto the ground. It was like an invisible energy field had surrounded them both, creating a Max-and-Chloe world on that tiny bench.

With a sweep of her arm, Chloe pushed the disassembled binder off her lap, and turned Max to face her. “Did you do that earlier, in the bathroom?”

“The gun…” Max’s voice sounded far away. “It fell apart. I thought it was because you threw it, but...I think I did that. I felt the same way just now.”

“Promise not to go Carrie on me?” Chloe joked, but Max didn’t laugh. She felt like her whole body was covered in static, and her hands trembled of their own accord. Chloe put her hands on her shoulders and shook her gently, and caught her when she slumped forward. They sat facing each other, hands clasped between their laps and Chloe smiled at her like she was the first hint of sun after a long winter. “Welcome to the club.”

They spitballed ideas for a while: psychic powers, mutation, hallucinations. Nothing felt quite right, and eventually the conversation petered out after they exchanged promises to help each other figure this out. Eventually, as it got darker, they headed back to the truck and wound up at the old convenience store they’d spent so much time at after school, going in one at a time because the shopkeeper thought all the kids were shoplifters.

Chloe dangled a lit cigarette out the window with one hand and ate a massive honeybun with the other. “Feeling better?”

On the way back, Max had felt so lightheaded she’d stumbled over her own feet and Chloe’d had to pick her back up. She still wasn’t feeling on top of things, but after two of those sticky, cloying buns she was feeling a bit better. “Kind of. I’d still like to know what’s going on, but it’s nice you’re here so I don’t feel so crazy.”

“Nope.” Chloe set her snack on the dash, and offered her fist for a bump. “We’re a team now, might as well call ourselves the X-Men.” Whatever tension had been earlier that day, it was melting now, and Max returned the fistbump.

“Arcadia Bay better watch out.”

“Wanna meet up tomorrow? We can mess around with this stuff and see how much you can fuck shit up with me.”

“Maybe, school…”

“After then! I’ll set my alarm and everything, we can eat, my mom’s still a kickass cook!” Chloe was nearly giving her puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, better be your treat.”

Chloe dropped her off around 8, and she crept through the gate and around the edge of campus toward her dorm, as she was supposed to be on-campus by 7:30 and in her room by 8. Max had just gotten inside her dorm when her phone buzzed in her pocket. ‘Chloe probably wants to make sure I’m actually coming,’ she thought, but froze when she saw the message. 

Private Sender: _Check your room._

She darted to it, unlocked, and threw the door open.

Her books were on the floor, a shelf tipped over, poor Lisa on the ground in a pile of pottery and dirt, and her photos torn off the wall haphazardly. She saw her clothes on the ground, and when she picked up a sweater it was wet and reeked like someone had poured beer over the pile.

Her phone went off again and she was almost too afraid to check it. When she did: _Keep your mouth shut, freak. I could do so much worse._

**

Max locked herself in her room for the rest of the night, leaving only to do her laundry, and slept restlessly, waking every time the window settled or someone walked by her door. Would Nathan come back? There was only one person this could’ve been.

She had texted Chloe: _Nathan is INSANE. He was in my room and trashed everything._

_shit need me to come back_

_No I think I’ll be ok. Just freaked out right now._

_lmk if he fucks with you again. i’ll kick his ass with my mutant powers._

_I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks Chloe see you tomorrow._

She silenced her phone and tried to sleep again. When she woke in the middle of the night, she noticed her message light blinking.

_max_

_yo yo wake up jean grey_

_ok gurl please let me know ur ok when u see this_

_anyway thanks for tonight hope you show tomorrow. two whales 4:30pm soldier._

_ugh i just sounded like david shoot me_

_not literally_

Half-asleep, she swiped a quick reply: _Would be better if I could sleep. Buy me a huge burger tomorrow. :p_

_u really gotta stop using emoji if you’re gonna be a student at chloe price’s school for gifted nerds_

_If you say so :)_

_UGH_

Max chuckled and went back to sleep, phone on her chest. 

*

The next morning, Max woke up exhausted but eager for the sense of normalcy class would provide. She showered and was relieved when the knob didn’t come off in her hands and she didn’t accidentally shred her clothes. She couldn’t help but hurry between the showers and her room, and she was relieved it was untouched when she returned. It was so late in the morning, she’d missed out on Kate’s daily violin practice, something she measured time by every week, and it added to the frenetic energy she had.

To calm her nerves, she went through yesterday’s photos. The lighthouse and Chloe were good ones; she didn’t think either were the best options for the contest, but maybe Mr. Jefferson would have a different opinion. She’d have to ask him after class today, if she could stop stuttering long enough to talk to him. She pinned the lighthouse one to her corkboard in the meantime, and tucked the Chloe one into her bag. It was silly, but looking at Chloe’s picture made her feel a bit safer. Her promise that she’d mess up Nathan wasn’t just bravado.

Max put on her favorite dreamcatcher necklace for luck, and then hurried to her first class, headed for a quiet back exit nobody would see her coming out of, just in case she was being watched. She’d made it just a few steps when someone grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards.

“Morning, hipster. Like your new room?” Nathan squeezed her arm so hard it was painful, and she couldn’t break his grip even when she shoved his shoulder.

“Let me go!” she said loudly, hoping someone would hear her, even though they were facing another building and most people were likely in class. “Nathan, stop it!”

He shook her, making her bag bounce against her hip. “Promise you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

“I’m not promising anything!” she said, realizing it was a bad idea too late as he grabbed her other arm, pinning her against the wall of the dorm.

“You and your junkie friend, you don’t even wanna know what I can do to you two!” he hissed, eyes hard but frantic all at once.

“I think if you could, you would’ve already,” Max said, fear turning to anger and helping her find her voice. “Are you scared I’ll tell everyone Nathan Prescott got his ass kicked in the girl’s bathroom --” She was cut off when his hands wrapped around her throat, and with her body pressed against the wall she couldn’t bring her knee up to get him off or scratch his face. 

“Hey! What’s going on over here?”

Nathan froze and stepped away from her, and Max used the moment to push him away from her and dart around him. 

Mr. Jefferson strode toward them and she ran to the protection he offered. “Nathan --” He didn’t get an answer, as Nathan fled around the corner of the dorm and disappeared. Max’s chest was heaving with nerves, and instead of chasing Nathan, Mr. Jefferson turned to her and leaned in. “Max, are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” She put a hand over her racing heart. “We got into an argument.”

“So he attacked you? That didn’t look normal to me.” He put a hand on her shoulder, and she felt herself truly start to calm down. “Let me walk you to Principal Wells’ office, he needs to know what happened.”

“No, I…” She wasn’t sure how to explain what had just happened, anyway. She couldn’t prove yesterday’s incident had happened; she hadn’t gone to anyone when her dorm was trashed; and he was still Nathan Prescott the Untouchable. He could waltz into class with a loaded gun and nobody would look twice. And if Mr. Jefferson went to bat for her, it’d make him look bad too. “I don’t want to tell anyone what we were fighting about,” she said weakly. “We’ll both get in trouble.” She tried to sound vague. “Uh...pot. It was an argument about pot.” 

He nodded knowingly, then sighed. “Max… You have so much potential, don’t blow it on stupid shit like this.” She liked it when he’d swear casually, in class or tutorials, like he was treating them like friends hanging out. He was so cool. “I should report this, but if you don’t cooperate it won’t do any good. I’ll talk to Nathan.”

“But --”

“I won’t tell him what you told me. I’m just gonna let him know someone’s keeping an eye on him. Let me know if he ever bothers you again.” He squeezed her shoulder and smiled at her before letting go. She returned it weakly. “And see if someone can walk you to and from your classes from now on, okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, no problem.” Last class of the day was with Kate, so that was covered, and she and Dana had most labs together, and Warren would probably jump at the chance to be her knight in shining armor… Max felt exhausted just thinking about it.

“Let me walk you to your first. You’re late, young lady,” he said, winking at her. “I’ll tell your teacher you were helping me set up something in the photo lab.”

“Thanks, Mr. Jefferson.” As they walked, she clutched her bag to her chest, feeling she needed the extra layer between herself and the world. “Um, I took some more photos since we last talked about the contest. I was wondering if you could look at them later.”

“I’d love to. I’m glad you’re not trying to get out of the contest.” 

Max smiled to herself. She felt so dorky in his class, surrounded by people who were just as good if not better than her at photography, or smarter, or could afford the most expensive gear in Victoria’s case. To have Mr. Jefferson’s full attention and interest for a moment felt so good.

“See you in class!”

“Thanks again.” With a last wave, she was off. 

**

Classes were uneventful. She didn’t see Nathan, but stuck close to people she knew anyway. The few times she tried to text Chloe under her desk, she didn’t respond. Mr. Jefferson was interested in the photo she took of Chloe, saying she’d found a great model and she had great composition in the frame. It was a bright spot to a lame day.

“I don’t mean to impose, but are you sure you can’t go out for tea?” Kate asked her as they left photography class. “You look like you could use it.” Max appreciated her discretion -- she’d blurted out earlier this morning that Nathan was on her case, but hadn’t told her how exactly. Kate had asked why she looked so tired in the bathroom that morning.

“I’m fine, but thanks. I have a date anyway.”

Kate looked surprised. “Oh, really? Did you change your mind about the movies with Warren?” She looked like she hoped that was the case. Kate had mentioned in the past how nice Warren was and how much he liked her, but so far Max hadn’t said anything about it. It was harmless and Kate meant well.

“No, just an old friend.” She bumped her shoulder into Kate’s. “But I owe you tea, Kate. And cakes!”

“Thursday?”

“Awesome. See you there.”

Kate walked her back to her dorm room, where she was gonna quickly throw herself together before Chloe picked her up. Max bid her goodbye at the door, and shut the door behind her, leaning against it and sighing. She threw her bag on the floor, careful to loop her camera around her neck so she didn’t break it, and began texting Chloe yet again: _Hope your wallet’s fat, I’m starving :9_

She was about to send a second message, but got as far as _You_ \-- before she heard something in her head:

_Freeze._

Her body locked up, her thumb hovering over the screen, her knees rigid. She couldn’t move even when she tried to turn her head.

_Be quiet. Walk out your door and up to the school roof._

Against her will, Max felt her muscles move on their own, as she did just that: Left her room, shutting the door behind her so as to not raise suspicion, and marched to the door to the roof with confident strides. Inside her head she yelled, and when she tried to call someone’s name or for help, her lips wouldn’t move. It felt like her jaw was locked up.

Her heart raced and rose in her throat as she turned the knob and began climbing the stairs. She heard footsteps behind her, but she couldn’t even turn her head.

She walked out into late afternoon sunlight, that golden hour she’d enjoyed so much last night was now too bright, burning her eyes as it reflected off the roof.

_Drop your phone._

She did, and winced internally when the screen cracked.

_Smash that camera on the ground._

With her left arm, she threw her beloved camera with all her strength and wanted to cry when it smacked into the low wall that surrounded the roof and fell, broken.

_Now climb up on that wall._

On autopilot, she lifted herself up and onto the wall, standing up and feeling the breeze as she couldn’t help but stare at the ground. Beneath her, people were walking, chatting, skating, living out a normal afternoon. And Max couldn’t move, frozen literally on the edge between life and death.

‘Please, please let me go. I don’t wanna die,’ she thought. She wondered if this invisible force could hear her, or cared, but she went on. ‘My parents haven’t seen me since August, I love them so much. I love all of my friends here, like Kate and Chloe and Dana. I haven’t even entered the contest. I really want to make it to San Francisco --’

She wobbled on the ledge, and felt like she’d fall at any moment, and a tiny whimper escaped her lips. ‘It’s not fair, my life hasn’t even started yet. Please let me go.’ Could anyone see her? She thought she saw someone look up, but why didn’t anyone shout? Oh God, please let someone see her.

“Max?”

The bubble encasing Max popped at that voice, and suddenly she felt consciously aware of her muscles, of being on the ledge, and she flailed her arms trying to find purchase on empty air. She was too afraid to move, too afraid of falling.

“Max, c’mon, get down.” Somebody grabbed her elbow, the contact almost painful as if she was being shocked, and gently tugged her backwards and Max turned enough to throw her arms around their neck and let them drag her off the ledge. The moment her feet touched the roof her knees gave out and she took her rescuer with her, falling on top of them. “Are you okay? Max, what happened, why did you do that?”

She looked up into Kate’s face and before she could speak a word, burst into tears. Kate wrapped her arms around her and let Max sob into her shirtfront for uncountable minutes. Max’s throat burned and she could hardly gulp air in between sobs, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop crying. Kate just held her close and waited for her to cry herself out. 

When she finally quieted, she was still shaking, and Kate squeezed her one last time before pulling back. “Max, what did you do? Were you…”

She shook her head hard. “No, no, I… I don’t know why I was up there.” She couldn’t explain what had just happened, that presence that had hijacked her completely and nearly forced her to jump off the dorm roof.

Kate didn’t look convinced. “You need to tell me the truth. If you’re hurting, you have to talk to somebody, you can’t…” Her eyes were watering too. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I wasn’t trying to! I was up on the ledge and I got too scared to get down!” She tried to build on the lie. “I-I dropped my camera, too. I was trying to take a shot, it was stupid.”

“You could’ve died!”

“I know! I’m so glad you’re here.” She clung to Kate again, and Kate, surprised, touched her back lightly before pulling away again.

“Max...are you telling me the truth?”

“Yes, I swear. It was just a dumb mistake, you don’t have to worry, I won’t do it again.”

While she seemed wary, Kate helped her gather her things, reaching for the camera, and when she picked up part of it, her mouth fell open and she froze. Her hands squeezed the camera part until they nearly went white, and with a full-body shudder and gasp, she dropped it.

“Kate?”

“Sorry! I-I’m sorry, I dropped it again, I...don’t feel so good.” She wouldn’t look at Max. “I’ll help replace it.”

“It’s fine, it was really an accident.” The lie seemed more transparent the more Max told it. She still shook, and she noticed Kate was, too, but guessed she was just frightened. 

Kate took her arm and walked her downstairs to her room, followed her inside, and waited with her while she got ready to leave. Chloe still hadn’t replied to her texts. She wanted to cry at that, too.

“I… I was going to set up before the Interfaith Alliance meeting in the lounge when I saw Nathan round the corner and sneak into the girl’s dorm. I was worried he was going to bother you again, so I followed him, but when I got there you were gone and the door was open… So I followed.”

She sat next to Kate on the couch, drawing comfort from the strong presence beside her. “Kate, you are an amazing friend. Seriously, I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Should you really be alone right now?”

“I won’t be alone, I still have plans with my friend. She just...isn’t getting back to me.” Max looked at her phone again, her conversation with Chloe still one-sided:

_Chloe something happened please call me._

_Chloe seriously I can’t tell you over text PLEASE._

_I’m really scared I need you._

“Shouldn’t you get back to your club?”

Kate’s brow furrowed. “The club can wait if you’re still scared.”

“I’m fine, really. Just shaken. I owe you like, twenty cakes now, though.”

She finally got Kate to compromise and walk her to the bus stop, and she didn’t leave until Max got on the bus, waving at her from the stop as it pulled away. She really regretted have to lie to her, but Kate was probably safer if she didn’t know.

One call to Chloe only reached her voicemail, and Max stammered out something so vague as to be nonsensical, tripping over her words and her voice hoarse. She followed it up with a last text: _Are you pissed I’m late or something? I’ll be at Two Whales soon. Please come I have to talk to you._


	2. Chapter 2

Chloe swallowed bile all the way to Two Whales, rolling down the window at one point anticipating having to pull over and puke in the next few minutes. Benzos and rum. Never again. At least she knew now she’d bought real Xanax off Frank. 

She wasn’t normally such a lightweight but the combination plus the sheer amount of alcohol on an empty stomach left her wishing for death when she woke up around 4:30 in the afternoon. She’d groaned, both from the headache and from seeing Max had blown up her phone and that she was late -- until she read the messages and listened to her voicemail.

She took a moment to rest her head on the steering wheel in the lot. She was already fucking late, what was one more minute, if Max was still there at all? Max could stand to wait. Or at least, Chloe told herself as she swallowed a mixture of acid and guilt, sour like lemon down her throat.

She pulled her beanie down over her forehead, hoping it hid her eyes and that Mom wasn’t out front right this second, and found Max in the corner booth they’d spent so much time in as kids, sipping hot chocolate and trying out disgusting combos like strawberry jelly on eggs.

Max had a single mug of tea in front of her, and was leaning on her elbow, staring Chloe down as she approached. Christ, her head hurt, if she wasn’t late and didn’t need to drive she would’ve gone straight for some hair of the dog.

“What’s up?” she mumbled as she sat down heavily in the booth, arms thrown over the back of it in an attempt to look casual. And completely sober.

Max took a deep breath without looking away from her, and leaned in across the table. “Someone tried to kill me,” she whispered, eyes dark. “You can’t check your phone?”

“Whoa, what? Chew my ass out later, what happened to you?”

“Something, um, someone…” Max closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and she looked at the table. “It was like I was a freaky puppet. Some voice in my head told me to move and I couldn’t stop and...they tried to make me jump off the roof.” Her voice dipped, vulnerable and liquid, and Chloe slapped both hands on the table. “Kate found me and got me off the ledge, but now she thinks I’m a suicide watch.”

“Max, I… holy shit, I passed out, I --”

“Don’t.” Max covered her eyes with one hand, rubbing her temples. “Not right now, Chloe.”

She wanted to fire back -- _Really? Not now? So I’m not allowed to be pissed off at you and I can’t defend myself?_ \-- but then Max put her hand down and she saw the way it trembled, the puffiness under her eyes, and she bit her tongue for the moment. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.” 

Neither seemed to know what to say next; both looked in different directions and Chloe tweaked Rachel’s old bracelet again and again. The snap against her skin was a reminder that at least she was in control of something. “Are you okay?”

Max paused, before shaking her head. “If we’re gonna be a team, we can’t pull disappearing acts on each other, okay?”

Chloe tensed; whenever someone said “we” they always meant “you,” she’d seen it with teachers and counselors and Mom before: ‘You’re the problem we’re going to solve.’ “Yeah… ‘course.” She leaned across the table and grabbed Max’s hands, felt them relax in her grip. “Max, I said I’d look out for you, right? You wanna crash with me tonight?”

Max seemed to hesitate, but then nodded, appeased. “You owe me full-time bodyguard duty.”

“I’ll carry you out bridal-style if you want.”

They laughed, but it was strained. They picked at a short stack, Chloe trying not to gag at the rich buttery scent, and Max talked to Mom when she stopped by so Chloe had a shot at hiding her likely-bloodshot eyes. 

“Look who it is,” Mom said with her easygoing, warm tone, and put an arm around Max’s back and gave her a hug that made Max gasp. Mom could make anyone feel like an old friend, but Chloe noticed her affection for Max. “Welcome back, stranger.”

“Hi, Joyce. I missed you.” Max’s smile was strained. “And your pancakes.”

Mom looked at Chloe, and Chloe didn’t look down again in time to hide her face. Mom frowned. “Now that you’re back, maybe you’ll be a good influence on Chloe. She needs one.”

“Not as much as I need her,” Max said quietly, looking at her with pained eyes.

Mom laughed. “I don’t think you two are happy unless you’re giving me a headache. Back to work for me, good to see you, Max.”

Things were normal for a moment, even though Max still looked pale and Chloe felt like laying her head on the table for some relief. Then, idly playing with her bracelet, she snapped the elastic band and little shells scattered like broken china.

“Goddamn it!” she yelled before she could check herself, only seeing that the last reminder she had of Rachel was broken and she couldn’t even preserve this, and she didn’t even realize she’d gotten to her feet until Mom put a hand on her shoulder.

“Problem, ladies?” she said in the same take-no-shit tone she used for truckers and obnoxious teen boys who were taller than her. 

“Sorry, Joyce,” Max said quickly, pausing briefly in her frantic collection of the million pieces that covered the tabletop.

“My bad. Broke something with sentimental value,” Chloe mumbled, and Mom squeezed her shoulder in a warning gesture.

“Act right or you’re both out of here,” Mom said before letting her go and hurrying to another table that had called her.

“I think I got all the pieces on my side.” Max cupped her hands together tightly. “If we get another band we can fix them.”

“Forget it, it’s just another shitty thing that happened today.” Chloe threw herself down in the seat and Max tossed her that pitiful, doe-eyed look she’d had in the truck yesterday when Chloe’d reamed her ass out. “Rachel’s not coming back for it, anyway.”

Max’s eyes widened just a little bit before she tried to hide it. Of course, Max was just like the others; everybody said they wanted to understand but they all turned away when she showed them the slightest bit of what she was really feeling inside. Why had she bothered yesterday, Max was going to leave again anyway, especially after today…

Max’s head nodded forward, hands falling, still clasped, onto the table, and she seemed deep in thought for a moment. Chloe’s arms tingled first, like invisible fingers were running up them. 

She’d felt this before, but only with herself, and once with Rachel, at that party with the beer before Rachel had run off and blown off her calls. They’d had a fight the next morning that had ended with Rachel wrestling her into a hug. 

“Come on, you’re still my partner in crime, you know that,” she’d said, and Chloe had squeezed her around the waist and resisted the urge to bury her face in Rachel’s neck, just to know what it’d feel like instead of just wishing for it.

Chloe focused on that feeling, feeling warmth wrap around her in an aura, like she’d been wrapped in a thick blanket, before it suddenly dissipated. She didn’t see anything floating or hear any smashing plates, so she wasn’t doing anything.

Then she noticed Max lift her head suddenly, blinking and turning like a confused deer, and her hands opened. A white shell bracelet fell out, whole and white and shiny like it’d emerged from the sand just now.

**

“You might actually have to carry me like you promised,” Max joked as she looked at the stairs in Chloe’s house. They seemed imposing and insurmountable right now, even though she was feeling a bit better after the moment in Two Whales (she’d finished the first plate of pancakes and then devoured a second, plus a side of bacon when she still felt shaky).

“I’m not sure how I didn’t fall down them earlier. Hangover plus running equals nearly breaking your neck.” Chloe, standing a few stairs above her, turned to her and offered her hand, and Max took it, letting herself by lead for the second time that day. No, not lead. Forced. Those weird sparks were still emanating off of Chloe, ever since she’d fixed the bracelet and felt a flash of heat envelop her. When they touched, Max felt the energy, and found herself leaning into it for reassurance.

Chloe managed to guide her upstairs and into her room, which smelled powerfully of unwashed clothes and cloying air fresheners probably meant to cover up pot smoke. Without prompting, Max walked across the room and flopped facedown into her bed, feeling like it was spinning underneath her.

“I felt the same way the first few times. It gets better.” Chloe sat down next to her before falling on her back, resting beside her with her hands on her stomach. One hand protected the bracelet on her wrist, the precious object she’d gushed over -- and Max, by proxy -- on the ride here.

“I wish I felt well enough to fix my camera right now,” Max moaned into the blankets. “Whoever did that owes me a new one.”

“I’m sure it’ll set them back twenty-five bucks on eBay. That’s big money, Caulfield.”

Max snorted. “Maybe for you.” She turned her head to look at Chloe. “I guess I can try it later.” She could break a gun and fix tiny jewelry. So she was a handyman’s best friend.

“Got a better idea, and it saves you time, which is money according to the Symmetric Property.”

“You paid attention in geometry, I see.”

“Until they kicked me out,” Chloe said as she walked across the room. Max listened to her shuffling papers and plastic bottles, dragging the chair out from her desk before finding whatever she was looking for and returning to the bed. “Check it, I come bearing tribute.” 

She’d given Max a new camera, instant, similar model to her old one. “Thanks, but I’m not sure I can accept it.”

“No way, I want you to have it. It was my dad’s and I’d be happier knowing it was in good hands.” Chloe smiled at her. “Plus if it breaks I know you can put it back together.” She lifted it to her face and said “Smile, hipster!” before snapping a photo.

“Ugh, I look like crap right now.”

“Let’s see what the photo says.” Chloe shook it out and presented it to Max. “You’d fit right in in some indie movie, your eyebags makes you look super dramatic --” She grunted when Max playfully dug her heel into her thigh, and leaned over and gently slugged her shoulder, both laughing. 

Chloe laid next to her again and Max rolled onto her back, taking the camera and admiring it. She remembered now; William had taken a hundred photos of them with this thing, at every awkward age (as if this wasn’t also an awkward age). She held it above her head at arm’s length and rested her head close to Chloe’s. “Smile, punk!” 

The resulting photo had only half of their faces in frame, one of Chloe’s eyes wide open and red from the exposure and Max’s attractive crooked eyetooth on display in her open mouth. They snickered and took a few more ugly or ridiculous selfies; Chloe made Max laugh when she took one with her tongue waggling between her spread fingers.

“I just found my contest entry.”

“You’re welcome.” Chloe returned the camera and seemed contemplative before she said, “Hey, Max? Earlier, did you feel like...you were cold, or something?”

“I guess. It’s fall.”

“No, like...someone stuffed you in a freezer cold. The other day, in the bathroom, when Nathan told me to shut my mouth, I couldn’t speak. I felt just like that.”

She had to think back on it, but Max nodded. “A little. I don’t remember a lot.” It had only happened a few hours ago but she wanted it as far removed from her world as possible.

“And we know he has a reason to hate us, and is psycho enough to try killing someone… The trick is just proving it.”

“I’m not volunteering again.”

“You don’t have to worry about him,” Chloe said darkly. “He made a mistake when he tried that with you.” She looked at Max with a weak smile, and raised a fist. Max bumped it with her own and they both waved their fingers as they pulled away. A car door slam startled them. "Shit. Stepdouche. I thought he worked tonight."

Max knew she should go back, but held her breath and tensed up at the thought of being back at Blackwell. "...The bus isn't running," she tried feebly.

"The Chloe Price shuttle is. And I owe you big time. Full bodyguard service?"

Max smiled. "I've got a couch."

After bailing, they rode in weary silence to Blackwell. 

"Hey, look." Max pointed to a huge blood moon in the sky, bright and haloed in red. And it had a twin. Chloe pulled to the side of the street. "What?"

"I don't know. It's nuts though, right? I just wanna look at it."

Max pulled her knees to her chest even though it made her pants slide down so her panties peeked over the waistband. The engine rumbled softly through her, although the energy that made her skin buzz and itch, her _magic_ well up until it filled her chest, surged from the sight of the moon.

They started at an impossible double blood moon in awe and reverent silence, until Max's feet numbed and her vision blurred and split each moon into halves: four perfect slices of the universe's mystery.

"You believe in omens, Max?"

"I'd believe in anything this week." Even as she spoke, Max felt the knees of her jeans slowly separate beneath her hands.


	3. Chapter 3

Rachel came to her again. First Chloe was alone on the stage, exposed in that goddamn costume again, lights blinding her, sweat running down her face and ribs, the audience mere dark shapes looming over her.

“Wherefore didst thou not come when I cried out?” She turned her head and on cue Rachel traipsed from the shadows, moving with the terrible grace and assurance of Prospera, staff raised high. “Iwis Ariel, must I remember thee our promise?” Magic like the Northern Lights emanated from her, twisting around the stage until they were enclosed in the same circle and Chloe had no choice but to step closer to Rachel to avoid the searing cold wall.

“Mistress, never did I waver in my devotion!” She always cried out, in her voice and not. “Thou hast never left my heart. Yet I have my liberty, I can never rest. Every refuge I seek, you haunt.” Rachel’s staff rested on her shoulder and then forced her to her knees, until Chloe leaned forward on her hands and looked up into her darkly beautiful face. She looked like might have the day she died -- a gruesome crack exposing gleaming white skull, blood covering her face which she did not bother to wipe away, jaw broken and one eye bulging unnaturally outward, seeking to escape her crushed skull.

“Didst I not caution thou?” Rachel said in spite of her injuries, unsympathetic to the raw pain in Chloe’s voice. “Prospera is greatest even in death. My soul refuses all rest, until Ariel mends her err.”

Chloe couldn’t look away from her face, even as tears washed the stage makeup off her skin. “But command me, and any desire is yours.”

Rachel bent down, until her violated, grisly face, frozen in her death mask, was inches from hers. “Come, my Ariel. Follow me as you swore, and in Hell we will know nothing but excitement that consumes all.”

“M-Mistress--”

“The Hell I live in is Ariel’s making!” Rachel spat. “Refuse me and be cursed unto death and beyond.”

Chloe was never sure why the flames came then, rising around her in an explosive burst that blocked out everything, singed the feathers of her costume until it graced her skin and armored her.

She could never remember what happened after that.

**

Max was lying in bed, laptop open on her stomach, when Chloe seized and then bolted up on the couch. “Chloe?”

Half-awake, Chloe wavered sitting up, before flopping back down and rolling onto her stomach, hiding her face. She shook her head into the pillow and Max bade Warren a quick "afk" before going to her. "Hey," she whispered. "It's 7. We gotta get you out of here before people start getting ready -- Chloe?" She finally noticed Chloe hadn't stopped shaking, and wouldn't make eye contact. She sat on the edge of the couch and touched Chloe's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Chloe mumbled and finally got up on her elbows. Her hair was askew and eyes watery. "Nothing," she finally said. She leaned into Max rubbing her bare shoulder; she'd slept in her clothes. Chloe was a good liar, not an amazing one. Max pressed again: "Seriously--"

"Max, do me a favor." She sat up and turned toward Max, knees pulled up to her chest. "Mind your own business."

Max shook her head and folded one leg underneath herself. "You're my business now," she tried to say lightly, but Chloe just glowered at her. 

"Really? Because you were fine ignoring 'your business' until you literally couldn't avoid me anymore."

This. Again. "Chloe, that is *not* how I wanted it to go down --"

"But it did!"

"And you didn't choose to ignore me yesterday --"

"That's not the same thing!" Chloe shouted, voice breaking and so loud Max could give up any hope her dormmates wouldn't know she snuck someone in. "I didn't put either of you on the ledge," she said quietly, swallowing, and looked away. "Fuck this."

"...Either of us?" Max asked, before remembering too late who Chloe would talk about that way. How six months earlier she'd died the way Max almost had.

Chloe got up, searching her jacket on the floor and retrieving a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. "I need a smoke, not a therapy session."

"Chloe," Max said gently. "You couldn't have prevented...what happened to Rachel."

"What would you know about her?" Chloe ripped her window open, lit one up, and stuck nearly her whole head outside, back to Max. "When do you want to kick me out?"

Sensing she wasn't getting anywhere just yet, Max started getting ready for her day. "We can sneak out and get breakfast?" A peace offering of sorts, even though Max couldn't help but feel it wasn't on her to offer one. "And then school's at 10, but maybe after--"

"I've got a place." Chloe flicked ash out the window. "Where we can go and no one will get on our asses." She stubbed her cigarette out and threw it to the ground below. 

"As long as I can study for my Stats midterm there." Stats, that class she'd taken to avoid Calculus and that Warren encouraged her was "barely math to begin with, so it'll be easy for you." Liar.

Chloe stepped back from the window, half-turning toward Max, and with a slow wave of her arm willed the window to close by itself--and filling Max with a familiar warmth down to her fingertips. "Don't you wanna practice something more fun?"

"I don't know..." she began, but paused when she saw the look on Chloe's face fading into disappointment. She thought of herself on the ledge, and how maybe even the tiniest bit of power might've saved her if Kate hadn't. "Fine -- you're right." She crossed her arms and tried to smile. "We'll put a spell on Arcadia Bay--"

"And then it'll be ours." Chloe came over and high-fived her. After liberally helping herself to Max's dry shampoo, she fidgeted until Max hurried and dressed.

"Hold on, I gotta quarantine this morning breath," Max said, but Chloe followed her before she could say 'Stay put.' On the way to the bathroom, their stealth mission was foiled when they nearly ran into Victoria Chase, just leaving. Chloe instantly stiffened, but before Max could say ‘Down, girl,’ she attacked: “Hey, Victoria.” Energy emanated from her and Max tugged on her upper arm, urging her not to do anything stupid with her powers. “Up early to vandalize _another_ memorial?”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “I didn’t do that, Kari.”

“But you know who did!” Behind Victoria, a few posters ripped off the wall and fell to the floor. A window slammed open so hard the frame rattled.

“Chloe!”

“The most important question is ‘Who let you in here?’” Victoria raised an eyebrow and smirked at Max. “Caulfield, I’m not saying this because I’m your friend, but: Make sure she didn’t take any of your cash or plant anything in your room. She was a loser even before she got expelled; I’d hate to see what she’s into now.”

The words flew out of Max’s mouth like arrows: “Worry about Nathan. Who knows what’ll happen to you if it ever gets out what he’s been up to lately.” She’d hit a weak point. Victoria’s face twitched in momentary hesitation before she replaced it with affected disgust--carrying with it a sudden wave of fresh, cool energy that washed over her and made her grip Chloe’s arm to keep from buckling under its weight. For a moment, the remaining posters fluttered violently as a gust of wind burst through the open window, and ceased when Victoria exhaled harshly, suddenly tucked her hands underneath her upper arms.

“And if Madsen finds out you snuck her on-campus? Could be a scholarship-breaking infraction for you.” Max hesitated, and then the other shook her head. “Then neither of us saw anything. For now.” She brushed against Max as she passed them, calling back a soft “An STD test wouldn’t be a bad idea, either,” aimed at Chloe.

“Don’t cut yourself on that edge, bitch,” Chloe said, flipping off her retreating back, and with a quick jerk of her wrist, slammed Victoria’s door in her face when she went to go inside, making her shriek as it both surprised her and got her toes. Chloe threw up her hands and mouthed ‘What?’ when Max glared at her. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” she muttered once they were alone, and Max sighed, nodding, toothbrush forgotten.

Breakfast was the result of whatever two teenagers could pool from their pocket change: canned coffee and donuts from the Bakery case at Sherwood’s Grocery, and Chloe ate with one hand and drove with the other, leading them toward the beach where they must’ve spent the equivalent of months when they were kids. Max didn’t think her foot ever left the gas pedal.

“You could’ve really hurt her,” she said at one point, and Chloe gulped down a huge bite of her sugar bomb like a snake with a rat before shooting back, “Don’t say you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

Well… “We’d both get in trouble if it looked like we attacked her.” Max put her elbow on the windowsill and watched the town limits zip past them. “And isn’t the whole point of going off alone to hide our powers?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t.” She didn’t slow to a stop so much as slammed to one when they reached the parking lot, double-parking over two spaces. “You know, what if the time comes where we can’t? What’s your plan then?” She stared at the water’s edge, chugged her coffee, and rolled down her window before lighting up. “I know I’d like some people off my ass right now.”

“...Do you really want to hurt anyone?”

“No.” Inhale. Exhale. The smoke smell drifted back into the cabin and was turning Max’s stomach on the caffeine and sugar. Was this how people got old -- everything upset their stomachs? “But if people wanna hurt me, why shouldn’t I defend myself?” She looked at Max, considering her for a moment, before adding, “Or you.”

She wasn’t wrong--someone did want to hurt them--and she appreciated the sentiment, but… “I just don’t want to lose you if something happened.” She touched Chloe’s knee, keeping it there and focusing on those fleeting sparks that always bounced off her after she used her powers. Chloe looked at it before smiling so slightly someone else might’ve missed it, and rubbed her wrist, seeking the same feeling off Max.

“Don’t worry about it.” She squeezed her hand over Max’s before teasing, “Can’t keep your hands or your powers off me, huh?”

“Who knows -- maybe I also have the power of attraction.”

“Ugh.” She looked at the rearview mirror suddenly, face darkening, and swore before roaring the engine. “Hold on--” Her truck groaned and screeched with the effort she demanded from it, whirling it in a U-turn so sharp Max feared tipping over, and her heart jumped when she saw they were on a head-on collision course with an RV wider than the truck.

“Chloe --”

“I’ve got it!” The truck jerked and threw Max, without a seatbelt, into the passenger-side window, but they swerved and just scraped past it. Max looked back and saw it had stopped in the narrow entrance-slash-exit to the lot, and had a sinking realization: the driver fully intended to block them in. When she breathed, it came in pants. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding hers until Chloe exhaled beside her. “Nice try, asshole,” she said to the rearview mirror, as the RV grew distant.

“Who was that?”

“Just another guy who could use a door in his face. Or maybe up his ass.” Chloe had new layers every time Max looked at her, some in various states of decay like an onion at the bottom of the fridge. “He won’t find us where we’re going.”

Max rubbed her neck, sore from where she’d been jerked around, and looked at Chloe with concern. “Who else wants to hurt you in this town?” She peeked behind her and true to Chloe’s word, no one followed them.

She didn’t expect a serious answer, until Chloe cracked the knuckles on her right hand and said, “His name’s Frank Bowers, dealer to over half the town and...he takes his business seriously.

“...You owe him money?” Max took a shot in the dark.

“Yeah.” Trying to be flippant, Chloe held up a finger. “Hey, I always pay my bills on time. Not behind on a single ounce. But he’s a fucking loan shark now that his main business is slow.”

“And how much do you owe him?”

“At least three grand? I haven’t bothered to compound the interest.” Chloe glided into the next lane, eyes scanning ahead before suddenly jerking them back toward an exit leading into the trees. Not the lighthouse, at least. “Something’s gonna come through and then I can kiss him off.” She didn’t offer more information. The road stretched on for some twenty more minutes, before Max asked, “Where are we going?”

“Culmination State Park,” Chloe said flatly. “Burnt to the ground in a wildfire a few years ago.” Max remembered it, back when texts from Arcadia Bay Fire Watch still came to her phone. “It’s the farthest place I can think of right now.”

But not as far as she wanted to go, judging by her tone.

**

It had to be Culmination.

The last time Chloe was here, she woke up with a cop rapping on her window, asking her to exit the vehicle calmly. It was not one day since Rachel's death, but three, and she was not only a missing person but apparently a suicide risk. Her truck was out of gas in Culmination, and the cops found her plates there.

There was what she remembered about the day Rachel died, and what it was told to her. It happened in the morning before classes (she'd been asleep), and she remembered she'd had the control to blubber that she had a migraine but not that she wanted an Advil. Mom smoothed a cool washcloth over her eyes and forehead, whispering oh honey she was so sorry. 

She got a text elucidating exactly *how* Rachel died, and threw up in the bathroom, and threw up again after Mom tried to make her eat a sandwich. Grilled cheese with bacon and tomato.

After that, there were clues but no story. She was supposedly asleep at 9pm, and by 5am the next morning was gone, along with $500 from the lockbox in the garage, and her truck. Her phone was off. (Surprisingly organized for someone out of her mind, she'd said in outpatient, but nobody laughed.) Chloe could guess what she did, but the real story was probably pathetic and depressing. She remembered at one point speeding on a route, screaming alongside Mitski that "I should move to a brand new city and teach myself how to die." Rachel liked that song.

And then, well. Squad car to hospital to intake to inpatient, "admitted on own recognizance" in the official report. Of course she'd been babbling about suicide -- *Rachel's*.

Two surprising things about hospitalization: they made you take a pregnancy test even if you were on the rag, and a psych nurse would all but shove her finger down your throat if she suspected you were hiding pills.

Trazedone gave her sleep paralysis like a bitch. 

And she would've liked to tell Wells herself that the mall cop's benefits were paying for her treatment after the Crazy Bender Tour of '13. They made her pay for the tow back to Arcadia Bay and replace the missing $500 herself, though, necessitating that loan and thus…  
Ahead of her, Max already had her camera and snapped away at Rachel's barren monument. She lingered over a shot of the oak, ashy and dead but still standing in spite of it. Efforts to "revitalize the park" had been in talks for three years; at some point Evan emailed her asking to help him put up flyers, but she deleted the message.

"We gonna do this?" She called tiredly, and Max looked up like she'd finally remembered her.

"Any ideas?" Chloe debated being cute and trying to flip Max's hood up over her face, but the thought of laying hands on her after yesterday made her uneasy. "Hm..." It was always easier for her to throw things, the bigger the better, or rip or shove or rend. Lifting things and bringing them to her took so much fine concentration and was so exhausting it usually wasn't worth the effort. 

Chloe pulled her lighter from her pocket -- "Catch!" -- and tossed them to Max, who fumbled like it was a pop fly. One time she'd got hit in the face with one in Gym class and busted her lip, chipped a baby tooth. "Just hold that out and let me try to take it from you." She took a deep breath, trying to draw in that energy, and raised her hand. Her first arm tugged *Max* forward by the wrist, and the second snagged her sleeve. "Chloe --"

"I've got it!"

"No --" And then Max yelped and fell forward as the third time yanked her left arm so hard she tripped over herself.

"Max!" She rushed to her side, and Max sat up, dusting off her arms and front where dirt coated them. "Shit, sorry, are you okay?"

"I told you not to touch me." She handed Chloe back the lighter. She didn't react when Chloe brushed her shoulders off uselessly.

"I wasn't trying to."

Max pinched her inner elbow through her sleeves, exhaling through her nose. "I feel nauseous," she said quietly, then coughed and covered her mouth. At a loss, Chloe hung there and watched her brace herself against something, before shaking her head.

"Let's just do you, okay?" 

"I'm not sure --"

"Please." If she could just get things rolling again maybe Max wouldn't ghost her by the start of classes. "You cracked your phone right? What if you tried to fix that?" Max seemed lost in space, and Chloe actually dug her phone out of her sweatshirt pocket, holding it up. "You got this."

Max took the phone, considering it, and spidered her fingers across the screen. "I don't know how," she said tiredly. "I don't know where it comes from and I--"

"Oh come on, you gotta try." Chloe rubbed her upper arm. That same static buzzed lightly around Max; if Rachel was here she'd decipher their individual auras for sure. Rachel's was always...encompassing. Solid. Like herself. "We're a team. Here, maybe..." She tried to focus on what her own magic felt like, that rush of blood, and though it strained her brain she tried to draw in Max's energy too until Max's head nodded a bit and Chloe felt a stun gun to the chest. In their own bubble again, the edges of her vision warped and she blearily watched Max focus hard on her phone, stroking its screen again and again until epiphany lit up her eyes. She revealed a whole, pristine phone screen, and then her hands dropped to her lap and she sagged forward so fast she fell into Chloe's chest. They supported each other until the wind picked up and sent a swirl of dust around them that made Chloe tear up. 

She helped Max stand and walked her to the truck, hoisting her into the cabin by the arms, no powers. Exhausted, but relieved. Good. Chloe did something right by her. "See? You're a handyman's wet dream."

"You're lucky I can't walk back to Blackwell right now," Max teased back. "Oh, hey..." She rubbed Chloe's jaw with her thumb. "I got dirt all over you."

"I think I started it by tossing you around."

"Seriously though, just...be careful. I think my heart's gonna explode if I get bodyjacked again." In the silence, they sat until Max's phone went off; of course her ringtone was some kind of indie tune that sounded like it was recorded while the singer was stoned. "Oh, hold on," and she answered before Chloe could interrupt. Thanks, Max.

Still, it gave her an opportunity to check her own phone on the sly. She walked away a bit, back to Max, and saw her favorite thing: message alerts from Mom, Frank, *and* David within the span of twenty minutes. Joy.

Frank first: *money. friday. last warning.*

Mom: *Did you remember the check on the counter? Text me when you get there.*

And the best for last, David: *13:00 hours, not a second late. I expect a receipt on top of your normal report as proof.* The second one was harder not to fire back at: *Do not test me again, Chloe.*

She had time for *ok Mom* and *fine. you want that notarized too?* before Max called her back. "Sorry, that was Kate." She rubbed her left shoulder. "She found me yesterday and I didn't want her to think I was a suicide risk if I didn't answer. Oh uh..." She must've seen the flicker of resentment on Chloe's face. "Sorry."

"That's the word for it, isn't it?" She didn't dare look over her shoulder because she might never look forward again. "We gotta go. This is a longer drive than I planned so unless --"

"Who says I wanna go back to Blackwell?" Max curled forward and flexed her feet, an old nervous habit. "After yesterday, I think I earned a vacation."

"...I can't today."

"Why?"

Chloe shrugged. "Do you need another reason to get in trouble with Wells? You caved when Victoria threatened your scholarship."

"No, I played nice nice with her because I didn't want David to find out about you."

"Sure."

Max jumped down, wobbled, but stood straight. "Is anything going to be enough for you?"

"What the hell does that mean? Now I'm a bitch for looking out for you like I promised?"

"Then just stay with me today."

Chloe felt the energy surge and bit the edge of her tongue. *Not now.* She tugged on her hair and pushed it out of her face. "Max. I want to. I really, really want to." This was Max, she'd understand if Chloe told her the whole story. Of course she would. But then she'd get deeper into it and turn into another person who treated her like a timebomb. "There's something I gotta do and I don't want company. Okay?"

Max crossed her arms and considered her with naked disappointment. Then she got back in the truck and shut the door.

The drive back was the Arctic, and the distance to Blackwell further than the width of Oregon when you were trapped in a car with someone you'd just pissed off. When they finally rolled to the curb, neither moved until Chloe said "I'll be here at 4. Swear." 

"Okay." If Max took the olive branch or was just humoring her, Chloe couldn't tell. "Bye." She watched her head up the steps, meeting Kate at the top and they walked off together. Fine, fine, fine, Chloe thought as she pointed the truck home. Of course she'd forgotten the check yesterday. And her stomach was starting to hurt because of the missed dose. 

"I can still smell the fire," Mitsuki crooned, a song Rachel would never hear. “Even though it's long died out.” Chloe turned it up.

**

Kate didn't walk her to AP Lit, but instead to the end of the walkway where Principal Wells waited for them.

"I'm not late," Max protested with irritation fueled by her morning.

"You're not -- you're excused from first period. Miss Caulfield, I need to see you in my office immediately." A thousand thoughts raced through Max’s head -- everything that could’ve gone wrong between yesterday and right now, everything she definitely did not need him knowing -- and she squeezed the chest strap of her bag and nodded.

Kate touched her shoulder as she went to go, and her face hid guilt poorly. She couldn’t help but feel like she was leaving last rites for the gallows as she went inside and followed the principal to his office. Goodbye scholarship? Goodbye Blackwell, goodbye Arcadia Bay, goodbye Chloe…

"The first thing I want you to know is you're not in trouble," Principal Wells said in a tone Max guessed was supposed to be casual and comforting. "That said, it's been brought to my attention that you're suspected of engaging in high-risk behaviors and allegedly committing infractions against the Blackwell Code of Conduct. If you have anything to tell me, now is the time."

Max couldn't help but shake her head. "Don't I deserve to be told what I'm being accused of first?" And exactly how hard she needed to go for Victoria Chase after this meeting.

"I can't help but point out that you're not denying anything. Miss Caulfield, to use an old cliche: 'The truth will set you free.' You can cooperate now or force me to escalate my methods of investigation."

"...Are you threatening me?"

"No, merely reminding you that your actions have consequences. So, I ask you again: Do you have anything you'd like to tell me of your own volition?"

'You're protecting a psycho but somehow have the guts to say I'm the criminal.' "I don't have anything to say."

He sighed and tented his fingers, leaning forward on his elbows. "I'm highly concerned about your well being, based on the testimony of trustworthy -- and very caring, might I add -- sources close to you. A report you had a physical altercation with another student over drugs. Destruction of school property. Confiding thoughts of self-harm. Inconsistent academic performance. And flagrantly violating your dormitory's rules by sneaking out and hosting an unauthorized overnight guest." He looked at her skeptically. "Really, Miss Caulfield, you couldn't have thought no one would recognize the daughter of the Head of Security --"

"Stepdaughter."

"And now insubordination. If I verify these reports, I would be well within my rights to suspend you for the school year, if not expel you outright." He shook his head and tried to soften his expression. "But because of those who vouched for both your character and difficulty adjusting to being away from home, and Blackwell's belief in rehabilitation not retribution, I am inclined to give you a conditional grace period." 

"And?"

"Blackwell is pushing a new model for mental illness awareness and suicide prevention, and part of that is identifying students who may be in crisis. Based on my findings, I've decided you would benefit from a pilot intervention program." He got up, letting her reel in her seat, and opened his door. "You can come in now."

She couldn't hide her disappointment when Mr. Jefferson came in and took a seat by Wells' side. "Max," he said gently. "Please understand that part of my job as your teacher is to look out for your best interest, not be your friend."

Max gripped the sides of her seat, her nails bending under the pressure, and let flow some of the energy spilling up her throat, out between her ribs. She opened her mouth, but thought of everything she might blow if she said exactly what she wanted, kicked her chair across the room, and walked out. For the first time, she feared losing control of her reaction. No more scholarship, no more extended program, goodbye portfolio, goodbye...everything she thought she wanted. Beneath her palms, the seat cushion shrank down, receding to expose the wood underneath.

“I think -- with a little help -- you can make the most of your potential. I’d like to invite you to join a new on-campus support group.” He held up his hands. “Totally confidential. We just meet twice a week to let off steam, learn coping skills, and practice a bit of art therapy. Because you’re a legal adult, your parents don’t even need to know.”

“You have a choice to make: participate and I will grant you the benefit of the doubt. Refuse,” he shook his head, “and the consequences will escalate.”

“Ray -- coercion is not how we get students to feel comfortable at Blackwell,” Mr. Jefferson unexpectedly -- but too late -- spoke out of turn to support her. “Don’t you think this is too much pressure?”

They began to speak among themselves, but she didn’t hear. Searing pain covered Max’s palms and flowed up her arms, which locked into place. Beneath her, the physical material beneath her was rapidly disappearing. She couldn’t even think in words, unable to respond to their prompts, and then the chair collapsed underneath her, dropping her hard onto the floor. She lied there, staring at the ceiling and watching barely-visible surges of energy crawl across the ceiling, and her toes, elbows, and shoulders were suddenly cooler. Someone fussed around her, but her head felt faraway and distant, dizzy when someone lifted her and put her in a new chair. Looking down, she saw her shoes were worn down, her pants and hoodie frayed, and the chair she’d been in was in pieces -- parts of it strained and worn clear through as if burned.

Despite the fall, her worst injury was a sore tailbone, and after making sure their liability was minimal, they went on:

“The choice is ultimately yours--”

“As it should be.”

“And again I’d like to stress the emphasis is on ensuring your success both at Blackwell and in life --”

“But you need to want this, Max, not because you’re afraid of being punished,” he aimed this last part at Principal Wells, “for needing help.”

“She is not being punished, and if you interrupt me one more time--”

“Fine!” Max clutched her temple. “I’ll go. Can I please leave?” She was given an excused absence for the rest of the day and instructions to report to the photography classroom after school. On her way to her room, she experimentally trailed her fingers along the walls, the edges of lockers and windows, bulletin boards, and watched edges warp away, crack, and dissolve satisfyingly at her own hands. The walkway cracked beneath her feet and she burned the imprint of her hands into the wall of her floor to see that she could. She had all the therapy she needed under her skin; nothing made her feel more connected to the present than completely surrendering control of herself to magic.

She bypassed her room, and entered the girls’ showers, her fingers sliding along the knobs as the metal wore away under her fingers, and blasted herself with cold water that soaked her clothes and still couldn’t cut through the consuming sensations, gradually blending together into pain. For a second she thought she might die from it, as her clothes sloughed off with the water and piled at her feet, bare of shoes, and she stood in the contained storm in the stall.

When she came to, she was shivering, and turned the water off, wrapped her arms around herself. Her head was fuzzy but her memories clear, as well as the knowledge that she needed a towel. “Excuse me,” she called quietly to the incoming footsteps. “I did something kinda dumb.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Little light shining, little light guide them to me...” Chloe hummed along even as she lagged behind an out-of-state driver who’d somehow gotten lost on Arcadia Bay’s main drag. As a little kid she’d wandered around the house singing “And Dream of Sheep” at bedtime, at the time extremely literal and thinking it was about falling asleep instead of a woman drowning. If she listened to the album backwards, this song was the last one and she could pretend the woman just simply fell asleep and escaped all her problems.

Kate Bush’s real mom said "Come here with me now" during the interlude; Joyce knew that bit by heart because it was the only part Chloe let her say when she wanted to sing. She’d pick her up and carry her to bed while listing off ports of call, setting Chloe up to howl the second verse loud enough for Dad to hear downstairs. She told her the woman lived in the end, but whatever, nobody survived floating in the ocean overnight. She was fucking dead, Kate Bush.

And Chloe wasn’t sure if she was the woman in _The Ninth Wave_ or if she envied her.

As it was, she was alive and killing time trying to be a good daughter by surprising Mom at work (with something good for once). Wednesday she had weird hours, if Chloe remembered correctly, and because she missed dinner rush it was the one night Chloe Had to make an appearance for family dinner. Joy.

Walking into the diner reminded her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, her stomach bitterly complaining when she smelled grilled cheese and saw someone else tucking into bacon and eggs. She straddled a stool at the counter, waving to the cook when he passed the kitchen window, and waited for Mom to notice she’d made an appearance as the dutiful, thoughtful daughter. 

When she did, Mom went through the normal cycle: surprise, poorly-concealed concern, and then a cautious smile. “Look who’s here.” She deftly bussed the abandoned meal at the place next to Chloe’s and said without looking up, “What do you need?”

“Well, some faith in me would be nice but I’d settle for three thousand dollars.” She leaned forward on her elbow and placed errant silverware on the stacked plates. “Do you want a ride home?”

Mom paused, and Chloe was about to ask her if being in the same car with her was some kind of punishment when she nodded. “Sure. Thanks, honey. Just wait for me to finish here -- and don’t order anything.” Chloe scoffed but Mom was unmoved.

She played with her phone, but no more texts from Max. She’d blown up her phone earlier, when she was driving back to town after leaving the closest city where her doctor was:

_Wells put me on probation out of nowhere. Screw this place._

_wtf?? It’s been two days did my bad influence rub off that fast_

_Long story but bottom line it’s bullshit. Gotta go to a meeting after school. Meet me after?_ When Chloe didn’t immediately respond because she hit that last stretch of the highway that was speed trap city, she added: _Sorry._

_yeah that’s cool_

_if you need someone to key his car you know where i am_

_You’re tempting me._

_we’ll make a blackwell bad girl out of you yet_

Mom wiped off her side of the seat before getting in. “How does your truck get dirtier every time I see it?”

“Well, there’s always the bus…”

“It was a joke, Chloe.”

“Jokes are funny.” She squeezed the steering wheel and started her engine. ‘Calm down,’ she thought. ‘Don’t do what we always do.’ “Max and I went to the beach earlier. I’ll vacuum it when I get home.”

“Sounds like a plan. Did you make it to the doctor?”

“Check my glove box.” Inside was the receipt and stupid fucking list she had to ask the therapist to date and initial after every meeting like she was in fifth grade. “It was fine,” she offered to pre-empt any questions.

“How do you think it’s going?”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

Mom patted her knee. “Good. You seem more comfortable lately.” She finally noticed Chloe’s phone, how she’d turned _The Ninth Wave_ back on and Kate Bush sang to the Earth that she was just done fighting the water. “Have you changed your mind about inviting me and David for a session?”

“Hell no,” Chloe said before she could stop herself. “Uh. I mean. You can still come, and he can sit at home and go over his latest intel. I’m sure he’d like that better.”

“Chloe,” Mom sighed, “believe it or not, he does want to understand what you’re going through.”

Chloe had a lot of comebacks for that one. _The only thing he understands is the chain of command or That’s why he took my car apart for the first three months when I came home._ “When I started this, you said what I shared was up to me. Why is it so hard to believe that I feel better without him knowing whatever fucked-up shit I’ve been thinking about lately?”

“I know you’re doing your best, Chloe. And I want to give you credit for that. Can you please just give us the same right now?” Mom rubbed her shoulder and Chloe did her best not to shift away. Kate admonished them about giving up on life when there was so much life left to live. “Promise me you’ll keep thinking about it?”

“Fine.”

“How’s Max? I can’t believe how much she’s grown up.”

“She hasn’t changed much.” Chloe nodded. “In a lot of good ways. I’m turning around and meeting her at school later. She has some photography project so I’m taking her around town,” she lied.

They pulled into the driveway and before getting out, Mom said, “She can come over for dinner tonight.”

“You get to tell the Commandant that.” She lifted a shoulder. “But I’ll think about it.” She didn’t pull out of the one-armed hug Mom gave her. She kissed her cheek, and Chloe made a face just to be difficult. At least last year, they might not even have done that.

**

Max looked around the room, and still couldn’t believe she was stuck here now, and with whom. To her left, Kate shifted in her seat like she was trying not to touch anything and Warren had slid his chair so far back from the circle he was pressed up against the counter. At least Victoria, sour-faced and sitting alone across from the trio, looked even more unhappy and offended that she had to be here. This was likely cutting into precious manicure and rager time.

"Thank you all for coming. I know it's not easy to be here so I'm glad you came. Let's lay down some ground rules..." Max half-listened to them, too focused on the staring contest she'd entered with Victoria. She smirked, but her left foot bounced and her arms were crossed -- and when Max gave her a little finger wave while pretending to scratch her head, Victoria flipped her off.

"Problem, ladies?" Mr. Jefferson said sternly, and Victoria leapt at the chance:

"Yes, actually. I don't think this is the best use of my time when I'm so busy with school and being a contributing member of the Blackwell community. And," she looked at Max, "I think people with _serious issues_ need your attention the most."

"You wouldn't be here if your issues didn't seriously concern the administration -- and need I remind you participation was voluntary." Victoria sulked and Max guessed hers was about as 'voluntary' as Max's. What did Wells have on her?

"Shouldn't we share why we're here?" Max said, unable to keep herself from stirring the pot in Chloe's absence.

"That's one idea -- Warren, get back into the circle." Looking at him, Warren had scooted further to the right. He hesitated, face flickering, and tried to stretch and seem casual.

"I...feel better right here." 

Mr. Jefferson shook his head and beckoned him over. "Everyone participates." After a moment, Warren reluctantly obeyed. "It won't kill you."

Warren held his temples like he disagreed. Max felt nauseous looking at him, irritated she -- he was being called out.

"I'll go," Kate said. She tucked her hands under her thighs and re-crossed her feet at the ankles, rocking a little. "I want to know how better to help a friend."

"Interpersonal problems? Elaborate."

"I think," she said firmly when Max looked at her, frowning, "a friend is lying to me about how she's doing and I'm here to understand what she's going through."

"But what about you Kate -- oh!" The lens cap he'd been fiddling with popped up between his fingers and bounced before rolling to her feet. "Could you get that for me?"

Kate looked at it like it was a steel trap, before nodding hesitantly and pulling her sleeve down over her hand and reaching for it. She flinched when she touched it, fumbling, and then jumped up and set it on his desk like it was a hot coal. "Thank you. Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

She sat down and shook her head. "Um, insomnia? Maybe?" She was quiet and unconvincing. 

"Around the circle works just as well. Victoria?"

"I'm being bullied." She sighed and slumped her shoulders in her best attempt to win an Oscar. "An ex-friend is spreading terrible rumors about me and I can barely eat or sleep."

"Like what?" Max crossed her arms and leaned forward, unable to help her challenging tone.

Victoria wiped at her eyes. "That I'm part of the reason Rach -- one of my best friends -- committed suicide! How could she, especially when I'm already torn up about losing her?"

‘Are you kidding me?’ Max wanted to shout, but someone beat her to it:

"That sounds really hard, Victoria," Warren said. "You must be holding it all in, 'cause I haven't seen you or Nathan crying over her." He sounded stronger, certain in his veiled implication. 

Victoria doubled down and nodded, rubbing at her eyes hard enough to expertly smear her eyeliner. "Nathan's stood by me this whole time. I can't stand what people are saying about him either." She let out a broken sob that might've convinced someone who didn't know her as Satan's understudy.

"Yeah -- Nathan would never spread that hateful picture of her memorial," Max said innocently.

Victoria glared and didn't cover it in time for her act to stick. "Well...it sounds like interpersonal communication skills are something we're going to have to work on," Mr. Jefferson said. "Warren? Have any fresh insights on this?"

"I think..." he tossed Max a cautious look, and she regretted saying something she couldn't take back. "That being sensitive isn't something I think about much."

"Warren," he slapped the desk beside him. "Leave your worries about looking 'beta' at the door." He shrugged. "If that's what you kids say anyway." He pointed to Warren, who looked annoyed. "And after Max has said her piece, you've given me an idea for an exercise."

Max was suddenly on the spot. "I..." She rubbed her arm, conscious of the fact that her palms weren't tingling but it took restraining every breath to prevent it. "I didn't want to come here. I felt backed into a corner," -- she looked at Kate -- "and like I can deal by myself." Breathe in, sear. Breathe out, throb. She could breathe through her skin, she could fill her senses with the same energy she'd flooded Wells' office with earlier. 

"Max?" She tried to breathe, throat closing up, and when Kate put a hand on her knee a pure electric surge ran up her thigh, though her torso to the front of her brain. It forced out the pain and poison and surrounded her with most perfect protection. A shield, not a fortress. She met Kate's eyes and felt like embracing her as her energy tenderly worked through her being and left no room for fear of herself.

"...Max." Mr. Jefferson jolted them apart. "If you'd like to finish before curfew?"

"I think I don't know what's wrong with me," she admitted. "But it's not something being here will help."

"Let yourself be surprised," Mr. Jefferson said with no warmth. "Max, if you're so stuck for words, it sounds like we're due for that exercise." He crossed his ankle over one knee. "Mouths closed, eyes closed, minds open, okay? On my count, take a deep breath --" inhale "-- and out. Think about the full moon last night. What did you see exactly? Even if it defies the laws of nature? Be honest."

The double blood moon rose high over Max, and in her mind she saw it fill the sky above her. She felt as tiny as she had on Mt. Rainer and as weak as when she had the flu. She did not stand alone under its gaze, though she saw nobody. She felt distinct entities around her, each aura dynamic and fluid. Forgetting the moon, Max gasped and tore her head out of the vision before she abandoned reality. Looking around the room, she saw the others slowly surface, looking as perturbed as she felt. 

Only Mr. Jefferson stood perfectly straight and solid, considering them all with an artist's eye. "Cleared your heads? Good. Let's talk." 

They finally broke for the day after violating every law of Active Listening, and on the way out Victoria shoulder-checked her. Her phone had about fifty notifications, and Warren tapped her shoulder in the middle of checking them. "Busy?"

Chloe, Chloe, Chloe; scrolling down it was nothing but her. "Yeah. Uh, see you tomorrow?"

"Does it have to be?"

"Yes," she said more firmly, giving him a wave over her shoulder. "But you know where to find me now."

She dashed out into the parking lot and the early evening sunset, toward a familiar truck idling in the far corner of the lot.

**

"Max, seriously, the last time I saw anyone this manic it was me after someone slipped me E at a show." Chloe watched Max twirl obliviously, arms swinging, stumbling to a stop and almost falling on her ass. "What the hell did they do to you?"

"Nothing!" She faced Chloe, catching her breath with a small smile. Like a little kid. "I feel awesome!" She grabbed Chloe's hands and yanked her around with strength like Chloe's own powers, whirling them in circles. Tendrils of energy whipped off her and made her head spin, and they fumbled to a stop.

"You're such a nerd," Chloe teased, though she didn't let go of her. The more they touched the less she wanted to be apart. That magic interaction cut through the haze of apathy, akathisia, and substance hangovers that overshadowed her entire post-Rachel life. It would never be enough sustenance. 

Max sat down heavily in the grass, flopped back with eyes closed, a stupid grin, and her hands tangled in the grass by her head. Totally tripping, Chloe thought, then wondered at how the greenery around Max thickened and surrounded her in a lush halo that rose high enough to brush her nose. "Max?"

"Huh?" Max took it in, twirled grass around her fingers, too thick for her to keep hold of it. "Am I doing this?" She sighed, "That's awesome." Her eyes fell shut, and her breathing slowed. Chloe had to nudge her ribs with the toe of her boot to get her to rouse. 

"Well, you're awesome." She sat cross-legged by her side. "But are you awesome enough to survive a sup at Fort Dickhole? Mom invited you and it would really win some points with my warden right now to look like a normal person." She frowned. "With a friend who's not acting totally stoned."

"I'll try." Max's hands relaxed and she turned her head to Chloe, failing at not looking stoned. "How do you not feel like this all the time?"

_The fire was so, so hot and orange and devoured oxygen so quickly that Chloe didn't need to feed the bonfire after a minute. Shadows flickered and twitched like dancing figures against the junk piles._

_'Fire is jealous, Chloe,' Dad tried to tell her once, but when she stepped forward and put her hand into the heart of the flames, it didn't eat a single piece of her._

Chloe laid beside her so they were at an acute angle, heads touching and looking up at the first stars of the evening. The new grass was softer than anything in spring. "It gets old," she lied. 

"We won't." Max reached between them and held her hand, threading their fingers and weaving errant strands of magic tighter and tighter between them. 

Quiet and peaceful, they stayed until Chloe said, "Should we go? I'd have more fun swallowing needles, but if you're there it might not suck as much." The consequences of going AWOL were worse than of going, but that was a very, very long story for another night. And one more after that.

"Yeah. What's the worst he can do?"

'Don't tempt fate, Max.'


	5. Chapter 5

"It's so retarded," Victoria said, gesturing with joint in hand. She wanted Ativan but wheedling Nathan when he said he didn't have any wasn't a good idea right now. He was even touchier lately, more and more subjects off-limits lest she wanted to trigger a meltdown that he'd apologize for in the morning with a billion sad texts. She didn't have time for that right now, guilty as she felt for viewing Nathan as another obligation when she swore to him before he _wasn't_ her burden. He was her friend.

"Have they asked you to say stuff like ' I'm experiencing the emotion of...' yet?" Nathan snorted. "I hate that one, it only made me want them to experience the feeling of my foot in their teeth."

"Worse -- meditation."

"Oh my God." He reached for her joint and she held it out of his reach, nudging him with her stocking feet. He slugged her in the thigh and shoved her backwards onto her bed, claiming his prize. 

"Jerk!"

"I bought it!"

"It was your turn!" But she was laughing. "This is the only way I won't blow my brains out this semester." She put her feet in his lap. "I'll pass on anything good."

"You better." His tone worried her. She raised her head, watched his tense profile in the dark. 

"Hey. Be careful with Caulfield. Letting you into her room was a one-time deal." And texting her that shit after the fact -- Victoria shouldn't have taken that risk even for Nathan.

"Why not? She's a fucking snitch, look what she did because she was pissed about some trashed selfies." Victoria bit her tongue from saying it was more than that. She thought Nathan might mess with her a little, not destroy her place so bad it would make her hate them more.

"She's a headcase, but she didn't rat me out to the counselor."

"Then who?"

"Don't worry about it yet. I'm still deciding what to do with them." And true, Taylor crossed her, but Victoria wasn't, like, a monster. Icing her out of the club for a month or two was a proportionate response; not whatever Nathan would do to her.

‘I'm worried about you,’ her ass. Everyone knew Taylor was drooling over the chance to take credit for planning the next official Vortex Club party -- something Victoria couldn't do now since she was stuck listening to freaks after school. 

Taylor overreacted. It was Adderall, they both took it to cram for finals and kill their appetites before bikini season every year. Victoria just fucked up and passed out on her once. Not an emergency. 

And "bitter spurned lesbian" wasn't a good look for her. Some part of Victoria feared this was her petty revenge for ghosting her after their hookup and subsequent drama-filled rejection. There was making out at parties on a dare and then there was that night they'd been tipsy and Victoria wound up with her hand down Taylor's panties, the other laughing "Not with those nails." No point in dwelling on what she could've said differently.

"Ooh, feel like something bad?"

"Don't you fucking know it."

*

Alice snuggled against Kate's chest, and Kate pet her silky ears, knowing she had the sweetest bunny in the world. She'd let her run free since she got back from that meeting, comforted by her presence. At least somebody wanted to be with her.

Max wasn't returning her texts. She should've expected that. 

_I didn't tell Mr. Jefferson about the roof, just that I was worried about you._

_I'm still here for you._

Silence. 

"Time for bed, Allywag," she said gently, stooping down to put her in her cage. It shocked her when she pulled away -- hard enough she was scared it must've travelled through Alice but the bunny twitched her nose oblivious. It hurt like this all the time now -- she hated doorknobs, her keys, the lockers, and so much as brushing by one of the pierced crowd who could always be found under the bleachers during gym. 

The worst time was still the first, six months ago. One moment she stepped forward to receive the Eucharist, her lips closed around the rim of the chalice, and then pain cleaved her head. She felt herself fall and fall, although she’d merely slumped over and twitched and seized on the floor as images she’d since forgotten flooded her brain. Next thing she knew she was on a stretcher being wheeled outside and Lynn was crying.

“Dad?” she’d whispered as she lay in the hospital bed, and he squeezed her hand tighter between his own, pressed it to his cheek and gave thanks that God had returned his light safely. Kate just wanted a bucket to throw up in. 

Since then, the memories of what she’d seen had faded but that was only because so many new sights flooded her every time she touched someone’s things. She picked up a dropped pencil and saw its owner trying to peek at their classmate’s test. An abandoned paperback and a memory of hiding in the library until closing because the reader was afraid to go home. She’d probably stolen a dozen kisses off of lost chapsticks, water bottles, and forgotten cups of coffee. 

At first, distance was the only cure. She isolated herself and clung to her things, her memories, until one day their Media Literacy professor made everyone switch up seating arrangements and Max sat beside her and Kate felt...nothing. Her head was clear for the first time in a week, a month. Max wasn’t free of sensations, but she held them much closer to herself -- until the other day on the roof.

Her camera betrayed her. In an instant, Kate felt her body tugged along on invisible strings as someone ordered to walk right onto the ledge and look over campus, contemplating her own death. She was frightened, yes, but above all nothing in her power would let her move. Someone had taken away every last bit of agency from her, until the door opened and -- Then Kate dropped the bits of the camera she picked up, and the vision left.

And then there was what she saw last night after glimpsing the double moons: the memories were gone, except for black smoke and the sharp staccato of gunfire echoing off the walls. A group screaming, Kate’s voice among them. Combined with what she felt in the room earlier, a part of a strong circle of energy that almost took her under, it made Kate realize something she’d been denying since that first time: there was something happening to her, and at Blackwell.

Maybe Max knew. When Kate reached for her, she felt a thread snap and something else tether them together for a moment, and she felt something tearing at Max give way. And she’d pulled her down to safety. How to get Max to talk to her, now that she was angry and closed off?

Kate went to her desk and touched the photo of her sisters, trying something she’d been too afraid to do until recently: she tried to draw up the memory it contained. Her head started to throb from effort, until she heard Lynn laugh suddenly and her middle sister call “Katie! Keep up!” They were hiking and the girls dared her to race them to the top of a hill, and laughing at her as she struggled to in her skirt. The sun was so warm on her face and Kate was smiling even though she was losing…

Kate came back down, her body buzzing with that static she feared growing to love too much. Her head didn’t hurt anymore, and her breathing slowed down like she’d taught herself when this happened. The wind rattled her window, making her jump, and looking outside she saw a sliver of the moon. She put her hands over her stomach, which always surged when she saw it now, and her breathing stayed even even as her vision swam…

The last thing she saw clearly was her bedroom door, and then her own hand reaching out to open it, swinging inward with the finality of a guillotine.

*

Warren knew that there wasn’t supposed to be another supermoon for three years. He knew the moon overhead wasn’t even in the right phase, and that there was no windstorm forecasted tonight. He knew that the low temperature for the night was in the mid-40s, and his feet were going to freeze off if he kept going across the courtyard.

He just didn’t know why he couldn’t stop walking, and why he’d left his dorm in his pajamas, barefoot, into the night toward the school building. The wind picked up and he shook uncontrollably, but he went on toward the group of figures huddled by the lowlights of the garden’s edge. Right in front of Rachel Amber’s memorial.

He was probably going to lose his extremities to hypothermia, but at least his migraine had cleared up. He’d been lying facedown in bed, his room pitch-dark with a towel stuffed under the door and the curtains drawn in a futile effort to stem the pain. It’d kicked in right after group, when he got that familiar tension and swell of feelings, and by the time he was in his dorm he had to go straight to the bathroom to puke.

Speaking of group -- there they were, plus another girl standing by Max, slouched and arms crossed, looking at the remaining tokens left in honor of Rachel. When he entered the circle they’d gathered in around Kate, the wind picked up furiously before dying down, and warmth enfolded him. “Max?” he said, but she didn’t notice him. 

She was too focused on Kate, standing eerily still, unmoved by the wind and not answering Max. He rubbed his eyes, but nope -- the gentle aura around her wasn’t a side-effect of his faded migraine. A silvery substance oozed from the corner of her mouth when she spoke: “God, you guys are slow. It only took you six months to listen to me.”

“And I’m already gone,” Victoria said, but when she tried to step back, she snapped forward by some invisible force. “Let go of me you psycho!” She struggled, but she couldn’t get further than the edge of the sidewalk, and looked like she was shadowboxing a ghost, or a seizing puppet. Experimentally, Warren took a few steps backward and jerked forward just as hard as if he was on a roller coaster that came to a dead stop mid-fall.

“Kate, stop it,” Max said, hugging herself, and Kate shook her head. 

“I’m not Kate, and I can’t let you guys go.” Victoria shrieked as she dropped to the ground. “I can’t leave here. It’s where I fucking died.” Hearing any swear coming from Kate felt like he’d crossed into the Mirror Universe. “This is the only place I can reach you.”

“This isn’t fucking funny!” The stranger said, a line of blood under her nose. She rubbed at her upper lip before continuing, “It’s where Rachel died, and you --”

“Chloe,” Kate said gently, stepping toward her and reaching out, cupping her cheek while she froze. “It’s Rachel.” Firm tendrils of visible energy extended from her and snared the other girl -- Chloe -- even as Chloe slapped her hand away.

“Don’t,” she said lowly. “Rachel is…” She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, the anguish so palpable Warren’s eyes watered involuntarily. “You aren’t Rachel.”

“How now, spirit?” Kate said gently, and stroked Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “Do you remember that night? How I…” She kissed the fingertips of her left hand and pressed them to Chloe’s mouth despite her effort to jerk her head away. “How can I know that if I’m Kate?” She leaned in and put her hands on Chloe’s shoulders, looking up into her face. “Chloe, I’ve missed you so much. I came back for you.”

Looking at the two of them, he wanted to scream and pass out and cry until his throat tore up, and Chloe beat him to it when she threw her arms around Kate and started to cry so hard he thought she’d run out of breath. Max put a hand on her back, but she didn’t even notice her. Warren wiped at his face until it felt raw, but the tears wouldn’t stop. He was invisible to Rachel Amber, but now he felt like he’d loved her more than anyone and would rather die than let go of her again.

Kate finally extricated herself from a still-sniffling Chloe, gently wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “Shh, shh, there isn’t much time. Kate’s trying to evict me and she’s hella strong.” She stepped back despite Chloe’s attempts to hold onto her, and looked over the group. “If you’re here, that means you’re the only ones who’ve heard me, and have discovered your powers.”

“Powers and ghosts, got it,” Victoria said scornfully. “Kate, give me some of whatever you’re on.”

“I missed you, too, Victoria.” Kate carried herself differently, and the way she looked at Victoria with a knowing smile was so unlike her. “Were you happy when I died and you had a clear shot at winning last year’s art show?” She nodded in the face of Victoria’s eye-widening, embarrassed silence. “Thought so.”

“What did you do to Kate?” Max cut through the noise in his head, thankfully. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine, it’s -- this is her element.” Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. “And she’s kicking my ass, so everyone be quiet for a second. Long story short, this is where I was murdered, okay? That’s why I’m here. And you guys heard me.”

Warren felt like he’d been suckerpunched. “Murdered?” he said quietly.

“Someone forced me into that window,” Kate said darkly, looking up at the last place she’d been alive. “And I wasn’t strong enough to keep from jumping. My power didn’t do shit.”

“Who, Rachel?” Chloe said brokenly. She sounded like a little girl. “Who do I have to kill?”

“...I don’t know. I never saw who.” Kate shook her head. “But I should’ve known -- I felt someone following me, and...saw things, and did things I couldn’t understand.” She held her head. “Goddamn it, stop it! Give me another minute!” She gasped. “You all know you’re not the same people as you were before I died. Maybe one of you is already being followed. Someone’s next.” Her words came faster, edging out their questions: “Wherever I am, I can see one thing: I know if you’re here you’re all a part of this. Someone wants us dead. Figure out who, embrace your powers, and stay in the circle.” She staggered and Chloe grabbed her, holding her as they sank to the ground together and held her in her lap. 

“Stay here!”

“I want to.” Kate smiled sadly at her. “Stay in the circle. You’re all the key to what’s going on here.” Her eyes closed, and she relaxed in Chloe’s lap, not responding when she shook her.

“Rachel?” Chloe said, shaking her harder, lifting her head. “You can’t leave,” she pleaded. Kate didn’t glow anymore, and the wind had died down. The night was so still, so quiet, until footsteps behind him made him turn.

“Curfew exists for a reason,” Mr. Jefferson said sternly, looking all of them over. “But based on what I just saw… I’m going to let this one slide.”

*

Saturday morning dawned and Max hadn’t slept a bit. Her head was spinning after last night, and Mr. Jefferson finding them all and bidding they all come to his classroom tomorrow morning before dismissing them. She and Chloe helped Kate back to her room and after Chloe finally got the hint that Kate couldn’t summon spirits on command, they holed up in Max’s room. Neither had a lot to say, and finally without a word Chloe simply leaned back on the couch and shut her eyes, dozing off. She’d given herself a pretty serious headache earlier trying to push back against Rachel’s hold on them, and at least her nose wasn’t bleeding anymore.

She didn’t wake up in any better mood. Her head was between her knees as she curled in on herself. “Last night can suck my dick.” That dreamy moment they’d had in the park last night was definitely over. Max sat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know why she even came if she was just gonna bail again.”

“She told you -- she came back for you. She wants you to be safe.” Max cheated a bit and let her power seep through her palm, focusing on easing the tension in Chloe’s body. Slowly, she uncurled and laid back in her seat, sighing. “Just like I do.”

“Well she didn’t care enough to tell me what was going on before she died.” The rainy weather outside made Chloe look positively gray, and her eyes seemed faraway. “Like that would’ve done any good.”

“Then it’s a good thing you told me.”

“And dragged you into the shitshow that is my life?”

Max scooted closer to her and rested her head on Chloe’s shoulder. She focused on Chloe's steady breathing, shut her eyes, and felt sleep creeping into her brain. When they were kids William would shove the coffee table against the sliding glass door, help them build a blanket fort, and let them stay up watching cartoons and movies until they passed out. She woke up once in the middle of the night, scared of every object and sound, and cuddled closer to Chloe and listened to her breathe until she felt safe again.

"I guess we should get ready," Chloe said with resignation. She gently shifted Max off her and got up, stretching her arms above her head and getting on the balls of her feet. "Got anything cool to wear? My stank is making even me sick."

"Maybe not cool enough for you, but help yourself."

Max checked her phone while Chloe rifled through her things. Warren blew up her phone all night, and he'd sent her another three since she spoke with Chloe.

_wtf was last night??_

_I looked into it and you know mass hysteria's a documented thing? Maybe we all shared a hallucination or something._

_Max?_

She debated not replying, but she tapped something out anyway: _I guess we'll find out soon. See you in class. TTYL._

_why don't we get coffee before? I'll buy._

_sorry, busy. Rain check?_

_sure thing. You're busy a lot huh._

Max set her phone to charge instead of engaging. Warren could be so fun when he wasn't...doing this. He acted fine when she turned him down for the drive-in -- he even took Brooke, he told her later -- but then it was back to this.

"You know, if you shredded some of this and got some new kicks, you'd have potential." Chloe checked herself out in the mirror, mussing her hair and trying to adjust Max's gray pants so the cuffs didn't stop above her ankles. She snatched some safety pins off Max's bedside table and rolled her red t-shirt sleeves up, pinning them in place to make a sleeveless top, stole Max's wristband and paired it with her own boots, belts, beanie, and bootstraps. She turned toward Max and spread her arms. "Ta-dah! See how much better you could look?"

Max smiled; she did look cute, and even Max's plain old clothes couldn't make her look too goofy. "You can't tempt me to the Thrash Side just yet."

"There is cool in you, I sense it," Chloe said gravely, approaching her and trying to grab her, and Max ducked out of her reach, laughing. Chloe took off her bullet necklace and dangled it in front of Max. "At least take this. Baby steps." She lifted up and put it over Max's head, lifting her hair so she could secure it around her neck, brushing her skin. 

"Thanks." Max touched the bullets; they hit the center of her breastbone.

"Take good care of this, okay?" Chloe sobered. "Rachel gave it to me, but..." She lifted her shoulder. "It's kinda heavy to hold onto right now." She rubbed the back of her neck, the motion lifting the hem of Max's shirt above her hipbone. "And if you keep them you gotta promise something."

"What?" 

"That you won't leave like she did."

"Chloe..." No pressure, just 'Never die.' "After you."

Chloe shook her head. "Worth a shot." Max wanted to press why she didn't say the same, but Chloe waved her off as if anticipating the question. "Let's get this shit over with."

*

Victoria needed four different products to cover her undereye circles this morning. She just had nightmares when she tried to sleep where no matter how hard she tried she could barely move in the windstorm, and whatever chased her tried to strangle her when it caught her. Still, no matter who the audience was, she had to look her best no matter how shitty she felt. Her skill for raging all night and showing up to class perfectly put together the next morning was legendary. And seeing Max and Chloe -- oh Jesus, she was wearing Max's dorky clothes, nauseating...

_Taylor circled around for inspection, displaying the new jacket Victoria gave her. "How do I look?"_

_"Flawless, like your stylist." She folded down and straightened the bomber jacket's lapels. "Wear this to the next party and Zachary will be all 'Juliet, who?'"_

_"Who needs him?" She plucked lint off Victoria's shoulder. "Let's go doe and make everyone jealous they can't look as good as we do together." She looked at Victoria expectantly, and faltered when she didn't respond. "Uh, kidding. Thanks for lending me this."_

_"Keep it." Victoria felt herself standing between two choices, neither risk-free. "You really pull it off." Not 'You look really hot.' A month ago that wouldn't have a deeper meaning._

“Oh hey, it’s the Wicked Bitch of the West. Got any water, Max?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than skulk around here? You were expelled like three years ago.”

Price put her hands up and smirked at her. “And I’m back as a VIP.”

“This isn’t ‘Future Parolees of America,’ so how about you --”

“No one’s making you stay, Victoria,” Max cut in, leaning in front of Chloe so she was between them. Behind her back, Chloe stuck both middle fingers up and pulled the corners of her mouth up with them to mock her.

“Let your Attack Dyke do the trash-talking for you, Max. She’s less embarrassing.”

"It's not hard when you give everyone material."

"You--"

"Both of you, enough," Max said tiredly. "Nobody wants to be here, there's no point in making it worse."

"And a good point, Max," Mark said as he came up behind them, holding a carryout tray of coffee. "Though I expect an attitude improvement once we're inside." He nodded to Chloe. "Chloe Price, right?"

"Uh, yeah." 

"I thought I recognized you -- you were the model for Rachel's final project." He got a regretful yet tender expression. "It was a beautiful shot. Good job."

Chloe didn't seem to be complimented by that, looking down and away and playing with her fingers. Ungrateful bitch. Victoria would kill for that kind of praise; she'd gotten "well-framed," "great technique," and "potential." And here Chloe was getting called beautiful by proxy.

Mark unlocked the door with one hand and nudged it open with his foot, keeping it open with his back. "After you all." Victoria nearly body-checked Max out of her way, but her foot caught and she stumbled forward as her feet were yanked out from under her. She landed on her elbows and knees, humiliation worse than pain. Nobody moved to help her, and she could've snarled as she stood. 

Mark shut the door before saying quietly, "Chloe, don't pull that stunt in my classroom again."

"I didn't touch her --"

"I know magic when I see it." He raised an eyebrow when she didn't respond. "And I know what Max and Victoria's energies feel like."

"...Magic," Victoria said flatly. Now she knew: she'd fallen asleep after Nathan left and she was still dreaming now. That's why her real life had fused with _The Craft_. "You're joking right, Ma -- Mr. Jefferson?"

"Far from it, but let's wait for Warren and Kate." He offered up the tray. "Coffee?"

*

Max felt like a hot spotlight honed in on her as she sat in the circle of chairs. The static feeling wasn't in her head -- she was on magic benders. Beside her, Chloe bounced her leg and energy flared off her like she was a match head. Warren crept closer to her other side, Victoria sat across from them staring Chloe down, and Kate sat equidistant from them all, hands folded in her lap and looking exhaustedly into space.

"That was a hell of a show last night." Mr. Jefferson leaned back on his desk. "I could feel you from across campus." He nodded toward Kate. "A bit dramatic, but Kate you've shown you're a hell of a Metal witch."

Kate shook her head. "I had a bad dream. I don't know what you're talking about." Her aura was so magnetic Max felt like she'd float over to her any moment.

"Confusion's natural, but you're not alone. Look around you -- everyone in this room is a witch like you." Kate soured at that word; it probably held extra weight considering the whole...religion thing. "It's true. Chloe's element is probably Fire, based on what I saw."

"Nice." Chloe sounded pleased.

"And like senses like," he gestured to Warren. "I see a fellow Water witch here."

"There's not, like, a better word for --"

"Don't get hung up on semantics, Warren." He turned toward Max and she wanted to curl inward. She wanted answers until right now. "Max showed off the other day, and I feel comfortable guessing her element is Wood." Wood. Wood? She had an acid touch so she was one with the forest or something? "If you're not feeling too modest, you should show us later."

"And then there's the puzzle of Victoria Chase. Shot in the dark, Victoria?"

Seeing Victoria stuck for an answer and clearly put out about it was so gratifying. "Um...Water. Like you." She gave that nauseating sycophant look. "Like senses like, after all."

"Nice try, but I say Air." He cut Victoria off before she could argue. "It's not a bad choice -- some of them can fly."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because unfortunately it can't be Earth -- that was Rachel, and she's no longer part of your circle." Fortunately, nothing in the room exploded or flew around, so Chloe kept herself in check. 

"So it was really Rachel?" she said fervently. "She possessed Kate? She was a witch?"

"I was not possessed," Kate said firmly. "And I am not a witch." She stood up, head bowed but fists clenched at her sides. "This is nonsense!"

"Kate, I know this is sudden, but please --"

"No! I won't listen to any more of this!" 

Mr. Jefferson got between her and the door. "You don't get to make that choice." He looked hard at her until Kate wavered. "Rachel called all of you because you've been chosen. You five are still a circle; you have a purpose. She wanted to save you."

"...I have been saved," Kate finally said. "And I'm leaving now."

"Then I'm forced to report you walked out on a support group meeting. I don't want to do that, Kate. So sit." Pure blackmail, but Kate went. She put her head in her hands. He didn't miss a beat: "To answer your question, Chloe: yes. Metal witches like Kate are sensitive to spirits and Rachel was able to communicate through her last night. I'd noticed Rachel possessed some magic, but never got to ask her before it was too late. Classic Earth signs -- strength she couldn't control. Sound familiar?"

"Y-Yeah."

"It's a shame. But you're still here. She wants to make sure of that." He looked over them. "Throughout history, groups of witches have gravitated toward each other, of every element, in the face of imminent danger. Natural disasters, turning of magical epochs, and..." He cracked his neck. "Demons. Demons creeping into our world." 

He waved off objections. "Hear me out. Arcadia Bay is a powerful point for magic -- woven right into the history. Raise your hand if you were born here." Four, including his own. "See? And natural witches -- those who don't need extensive training to use magic -- are rare, but not impossible. Rachel sounds like she was forced. Of course she couldn't see it -- sounds demonic to me."

"So we're above the Hellmouth?"

"Not quite. But something's invaded the bay. Did everyone see the double blood moon recently?" Answers ranged. "Points to the two people telling the truth. Victoria, Kate, Warren -- you all know what you saw." He crossed his arms. "Water rules the mind. I happen to be a human lie detector." 

Max hoped that wasn't universal. She couldn't imagine a Warren who could read her mind. "But what do we do?"

He pulled something off his desk -- a book and a loupe. "The Book of Patterns is a start. This is my copy, but you all can have it. My eye's more for photography." The silence seemed to bother him. "Let's regroup. Get some rest and I'll see most of you tomorrow. Kate?" He offered her the book, and set it at her feet when she wouldn't take it. She walked past it when she left; Max retrieved it and held it close for a moment, trying to feel some potent, purposeful aura about it, but it was just a book.

Before she could consult him, Chloe grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the room and partway down the hall before she freed herself. "Chloe!

She leaned in and whispered in her ear: "Come on -- I need your help with something. I know where we can find more info about what happened to Rachel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP fic, this is the end of what I wrote in 2017. Thanks if you read this.


End file.
